The Renegades
by Safiruu
Summary: (11 years Old) Too caught up in their internal power-struggles, they never realized the number or might of their converging enemies until it was too late. Down came the Castle and just barely they escaped with their lives. I changed the rating to M. Because of the Sex. The ones with it is Marked.
1. Chapter 000 - Prologue

Chapter: 000 - Prologue  
Location: Castle Oblivion.  
Characters: Vexen, Lexaeus, Zexion, Axel, Marluxia, Larxene  
Rating/warnings: PG-13. Some swearing, issues of character death.  
Summary: The Keybearers and their allies have emerged victorious and Oblivion has fallen. An era has come to an end, and a new tale is just beginning. 

**Chapter 000 : Castle Oblivion - Prologue.**

* * *

Marluxia slowly surfaced.

There was darkness and voices; angry voices raised in heated debate, but slurred and muffled, as though coming from a far distance.  
Everything seemed heavy and slow, and he focused on the sound, tried to make out the words. He knew these voices, he was sure of that, but couldn't quite place them. Couldn't quite place anything, truthfully.

" Sure is taking his time to wake up. Why did you have to bring him back for, anyway?" a sulky voice muttered, and somehow he knew it belonged to a fox-like man with red hair and false tears on his cheeks.  
" Because, you traitorous little piece of filth, we need to bring him before the Superior for judgement like the rest of you," another voice, high-pitched with rage, snarled in response.  
The traitorous piece of filth in question merely snorted.  
" To be your scapegoat, you mean?"  
" To pay for his crimes! You three will be brought back before the Organization to…"  
A sharp voice cut in, shrill with anger and resentment.  
" You just _try_ that, Vexen, and I'll have three knives in your guts before you even start to move. I'd aim for your balls, but it's not as though you have any."  
" How _dare_ you!"  
 _Larxene_ , his sluggish mind supplied. Larxene in an unusually foul mood at that.

" Besides, old man, your own hands aren't exactly clean."  
A very foul mood indeed.  
" Just what are you implying?" Vexen hissed, still furious, but a wary note had crept into his voice. Larxene scoffed.  
" You throw us to the wolves, we drag you down with us. You made a replica of a keybearer and then lost all control of it; you _created_ another powerful enemy of the Organization! Your science really is a laugh."  
" Shut up! Just shut up, you little, you little…"  
" Bitch," Axel helpfully supplied.  
 _Yes. Axel. The fox-faced one._  
" And don't forget Twilight Town," he added.  
" Oh, that's right! That one is _precious_ ; leading Sora to that oh-so-secret place to tell him little dirty secrets about his other half; very clever move, Vexen! Xemnas will just _love_ that!"  
The silence that followed was tense to the breaking point; if he strained his ears he could almost hear molars grinding.

" You know, they are right, Vexen. That was an incredibly stupid thing to do."  
Impassionate yet slightly condescending.  
 _Zexion_.  
" Well, if the two of you could have backed me up just for _once_ , just for once doing _something_ instead of just sitting around waiting for things to sort themselves out, it wouldn't have come to that, now would it?"  
The elder Nobody's voice was near breaking, he was screaming at the top of his lungs again in profound self-righteous outrage.  
" Calm _down_ , Vexen."  
Zexion sounded quite annoyed with his colleague, but once the man had exploded into a tantrum there was no stopping him.  
" Don't you _dare_ tell me to calm down! This is your fault, every bit as much as theirs! You two _knew_ of their plans of treason, yet chose to do nothing! Don't think Xemnas won't judge you as well, if it comes to that!"  
A low chuckle cut through the screaming; Axel again.

" What a mess. Everyone's hand in the cookie-jar, huh? This will turn out interesting. Who betrayed whom the most?"  
There was a hiss, the sharp intakes of breaths as several people prepared to respond, and he winced faintly and braced himself for the outburst.  
" Enough," a low voice rumbled, calm but firm. _Lex..aeus?_  
" He is awake."  
All the voices feel silent and with a conscious effort he pried his eyes open to blearily meet the collective glares from five pairs of eyes various shades of blue and green.

" What", he eloquently croaked, still too drained to think of a suitable response.

Even in the gloom of the basement room it was quite apparent that at least half of the figures staring at him looked ready to strangle him on the spot, and it was with perhaps a little less grace than he would have liked that he managed to haul himself to his feet, straighten, slide a gloved hand through his hair.  
Control was important. Weakness never allowed.

" What happened here?"  
Step in, take charge.  
He was pleased that his voice was steady, no signs of his vulnerability showing.  
" Everything went to hell," Axel sneered. The man really wasn't very helpful at _all_.  
" Sora wiped the floor with you," Larxene chimed in. She could be dreadfully aggravating when she put her mind to it.  
" You were dead," Vexen hissed, green eyes cold; cold and unforgiving. " I'm in half a mind to revert you to that state. It quite suited you."

He straightened and frowned irritably.  
" How very helpful. If you are all _quite_ done amusing yourselves with vague hints, can someone please tell me _what actually happened?_ "  
" Sora came, as planned," Larxene shrugged. " Only he wasn't alone. While we had our hands full with everything above the rats down here were busy coddling an uninvited keybearer all their own."  
Ah, but that made some sort of sense. So that was where Vexen had gotten his samples.  
" Riku."  
" Yes. Riku. And the idiot scientist went and cloned him. Because more keybearers was just what we needed running about the castle."  
" 'Idiot scientist'?! How dare you!"  
" That thing attacked me," he frowned, ignoring Vexen's shriek. " Just as Sora was about to surrender."  
" Well, at least it didn't kill _you_."  
Zexion's voice was dripping with sarcastic bitterness. Axel smirked, a Cheshire grin gleaming in the half-light.

 _Ah, yes. Axel. Double-agent._  
He fixed the lanky red-head with his most chilling lordly stare.  
" I thought Sora killed you."  
" Well, likewise. Doesn't seem to count for much these days. I was pretty sure you, Larxene and Lex had kicked the bucket, and I know for a fact Zexion and Vexen did. Only, apparently not."  
" Murderous filth," Vexen hissed between his teeth.

Marluxia frowned deeply and looked around the group. Axel was right. At least half of them had been reported dead by the time he met the keybearer. _And…I?_  
" We were all dead?"  
" Not me," Axel chirped.  
" That could be arranged," Lexaeus growled, the restrained but very potential violence apparent in his looming frame enough to at least temporarily wipe the smug grin from Axel's face. Thankfully.  
It still made no sense.  
" Can you then explain to me," he said with studied calm, "why it is we're all standing here now?"  
" I _could_ explain," Vexen declared, his cold voice the strained but ruthless crack of ice close to breaking. " But I doubt any of you dim-witted fools would understand it."  
Marluxia blinked.  
" You? _You_ helped us?"  
The utter fury in those too-green eyes was almost enough to make him take an instinctive step back.  
" I helped Lexaeus. I thought he could be of use when everything started falling apart. Zexion as well. You three, however, shouldn't get too used to your briefly prolonged existence. The Superior will soon deal with you traitors accordingly."  
Larxene scowled darkly, hands on her hips.  
" You still think that's going to happen?"

He steeled himself to step in and ward of the inevitable argument before the shouting started again, but before anyone could say another word a low grinding rumble shook the entire castle to the core.  
" Okaay," Axel finally said into the following solid, claustrophobic silence, letting go of his makeshift support which just happened to be Lexaeus.  
" Again? What the hell was that?"

" The scents have changed," Zexion mumbled, listening to the heavy silence as intently as the rest of them.  
" Xehanort's heartless' presence is much weaker, not entwined with Riku's the way it was before."  
" They're all still here? In the castle?" Marluxia asked, his voice sharp.  
Larxene gave a scornful giggle, but there was a nervous tinge to it.  
" No, we told them shoo and they went away. Of course they are; why do you think we're huddled down here in the deepest bloody basement with the other rats?"

" Sora, the dog-knight and the duck-magician," Axel counted on his fingers. "Their mouse-king is here, too. And Riku. Don't know if the replica is still out and about."  
" He's not" Vexen muttered. " I couldn't have retrieved Zexion if they were still entwined."  
The short illusionist shuddered and shot a murderous glare in Axel's direction, then turned sharply as a thought struck him.  
" Lexaeus, Vexen, there is… something else, too. I forgot to tell you, I caught a familiar scent when I faced Riku. I couldn't believe it at first, but now with Xehanort's scent faded from his I'm sure."  
Something about the uncharacteristically low, almost choked voice sent an unpleasant tingle down Marluxia's spine and he found himself automatically clenching his hands, narrowing his eyes.  
" Well? Out with it!" Vexen spat, apparently as mystified and edgy as the rest of them.  
" It's _him_."  
The high-strung scientist scowled impatiently.  
" Him? Him who?"  
" _Him,_ " Zexion repeated, then elaborated with obvious reluctance to speak the words out loud. " Our mentor and king. Master Ansem."

Never had any one word had such an impact on any of the elders that he could remember; Vexen went stark white and a few inaudible words escaped too-tight lips before he caught himself.  
" _Here?_ Now? But… that's impossible! How?"  
" I don't know. But he is here. Real. Not an illusion like that Maleficent from Riku's memories."  
Lexaeus was scowling deeply, but even the usually so stoic man seemed thoroughly shaken.  
" Could he have followed Riku out of the Realm of Darkness?"  
Zexion shrugged uncertainly.  
" Possibly. Although I keep thinking if he had, I should have sensed him sooner. He's taken measures to disguise himself. Almost as though…"  
" He knew we were here."  
Zexion nodded. Vexen shuddered.  
" If Master Ansem is here… With access to all our research… Everything we have done here…"  
" And Naminé," Larxene filled in, the elders' apprehension dampening even her malicious mirth somewhat. Vexen grimaced.  
" And Naminé. _Damn_ it."  
" Oohh, Xemnas will be _so_ upset," she ruthlessly pressed on. " Still in a mood to go talk to him?"

" Maybe it's just me," Axel interrupted, " but if we have at least six known enemies, very _powerful_ enemies, stomping around in the castle, perhaps we should think about relocating? I don't know about you, but I don't much feel like hanging around should they decide to search the place."  
Larxene suspiciously crossed her arms.  
" Relocate where?"  
" We should of course return to Never Was to report," Vexen said, but his voice had lost its conviction, and he looked to his fellow elders for support.  
Zexion frowned and looked around at the others.  
" Perhaps… there is still some way we can salvage the situation. If given a bit of time."  
Axel shrugged, but his innate restless nature was beginning to shine through, his patience visibly wearing thin.  
" Maybe you can ask the keybearers to give you a moment when they come for us? I for one say we get the hell out now."  
" Where to?" Larxene repeated, her voice sharp.

" I think, perhaps," Marluxia interceded smoothly, " that at this particular point the 'where to' is not quite as pressing as the 'what from'. The castle is apparently crawling with any and every powerful enemy the Organization has ever made. Zexion is right, we need to buy time. Time we will not get if we are discovered here while still weakened after the last… setback."  
The word 'defeat' was much too bitter to willingly take into his mouth quite yet.

Zexion frowned, obviously not happy at suddenly finding his own words used to add credibility to any idea of the Assassin's.  
" _We_ need to buy time?" Vexen hissed, reminded of his anger. " There is no 'we'! Don't think your treason will be so easily forgotten!"  
Marluxia fired the tall man an exasperated glare, his own fragile illusion of calm fraying at the edges.  
" Would you rather let them pluck us off one by one? Again? Perhaps you would rather face your Master Ansem alone?"  
That was nasty and petty and beneath him, he knew, but the expression that crossed the elders' faces was almost worth it.

" A truce then," Zexion reluctantly agreed. " For now."  
The massive shadow that was Lexaeus nodded his agreement. Even Vexen kept quiet, which was probably the closest to assent he could be expected to come.

" Lovely," Axel drawled. " So we're out of here?"  
" Good riddance," Larxene muttered. " Never did like the place."

Marluxia looked around one last time at pure pale marble walls almost invisible in the gloom.  
His castle. His seat of power, his chance for greatness, the mighty foundation for a glorious future and apparently impossible dreams.  
 _Damn, damn and thrice damn it all._

" Yes," he said and summoned all the sad vestiges of power he could muster to aimlessly open a corridor of darkness.

The others hesitated, then hurried after him in silence.


	2. Chapter 001 - The Wilderness

Chapter: 001: The Wilderness  
Location: Dark Forest  
Characters: Vexen, Marluxia, Axel, Larxene, Lexaeus, Zexion  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, swearing  
Summary: The first night away from Oblivion is not what everyone hoped it would be. 

**Chapter 001 : Dark Forest - The Wilderness.**

* * *

The forest was uninhabited. Sounds were muffled and faint, even the chirping of birds and the shuffling sounds of other woodland animals.

Exhausted, ragged and worn, the former keepers of Castle Oblivion sat, staring into the shrouded darkness around them, jumping at every single little noise.

This was _not_ a good situation. By any stretch of the imagination. What had happened to the Castle after their... sudden departure was anyone's guess. None of them were sure they really _wanted_ to know. If their enemies, both old and new, were still in Oblivion, well and good. Maybe the remainders of the Organization would come and the two forces would destroy each other.

Or, maybe they had left, looking for them. In which case, the Organization might be looking for them, too.

Which was, really, _even worse_.

 _They think we're dead,_ Vexen consoled himself with the possibly-vain hope. _They think we're dead, and they won't look for us for some time, if ever..._

No one even thought about food, water or fire for warmth. Shivering, they sat in continual silence, alone with their thoughts, until the full moon was right above them.

Only then, did Axel stir, look up, and finally voice the one question that everyone was asking themselves.

"Well... now what?"

In the end, Axel decided to do all the work himself. The others were just going to sit around and stare and argue with each other anyway.

 _Morons,_ he rolled his eyes as he started the fire, occasionally throwing his two cents in. "You all should have known it wouldn't work."

"Shut your traitorous mouth," Marluxia hissed, blue eyes narrowed in annoyance. "You shouldn't have done _half_ of the things you did."

"Hey, _I_ was just having a good time," Axel shrugged, a grin threatening around the edges of his mouth, despite the situation. "You all were the ones who screwed it up."

"Shut _up_ , Axel!" Vexen snapped, rubbing his hands between his knees. "You're as guilty as the rest of us- even more so! Causing the death of two members of the Organization..."

"You're still here, aren't you?" Axel sniped, but shut his mouth fast when he saw Lexaeus frown and shift his weight as if to stand out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah, yeah, look, let's all stop arguing, huh?"

"As loathe as I am to agree, he's right," Zexion's voice was dripping with scorn, sitting cross-legged near to Lexaeus. "But this bickering is pointless. We're better together than apart... Who knows where our enemies are now?"

"Hopefully dead," Larxene tossed her hair over her shoulder, drumming her other hand against the ground. "Who's to say I want to spend any time with _you_ losers?"

It was fascinating to hear Vexen's teeth grind. It was much louder than anyone really expected. "Larxene. Zexion is right."

"You _would_ agree with him," Marluxia- who, secretly, _did_ agree with Zexion- sneered at the scientist. "Blindly and without thinking."

"Shut up!" Even Vexen's shriek was muffled by the tons of weighty vegetation all around them. "What he says has merit! And plenty of it! Alone, we would be easy targets!"

"But together as a group, we're _so_ inconspicuous!" Larxene drawled, purposefully baiting Vexen at this point. "Sure thing, no one's going to look for us like this..."

"Who's to say they'll look for us at all?" Zexion put his hands to his chin. "We are, after all, supposed to be dead."

"Not me," Axel put in his two cents. They ignored him.

"I don't want to risk that," Vexen shook his head. "I propose we stay together. But we shouldn't stay here. Not at all."

"I agree," Zexion nodded, and Lexaeus rumbled his agreement, to no one's surprise.

"I'm tired," Larxene said immediately. "I don't want to go anywhere at all. And you can't make me." She didn't, thankfully, tack on the childish _so there_ on the end of it.

"We do need rest," Marluxia agreed, settling himself against the nearest tree. "Perhaps we could come to an agreement after we all get some sleep."

"Someone should stay awake to watch for any followers of the Organization," Vexen said immediately. Marluxia gave him a thin smile.

"Congratulations. You just volunteered yourself." With that, Marluxia settled himself more comfortably against the tree and closed his eyes. "Goodnight."

Vexen gaped like a landed fish and spluttered incoherently. Lexaeus and Zexion traded smirks and made themselves at home with each other, answering several rumors amongst the three neophytes present. "Yes, goodnight, Vexen."

Vexen looked at Larxene, who had the temerity to _laugh_ at him. "You're out of luck, if you think I'm sticking my neck out for you. Stay awake, Vexen." She blew him a kiss, then bedded down.

"Yeah," Axel agreed, settling himself nearest to the fire. If it went out, he would sense it, wake up and light it again. "Don't fall asleep. Who knows what kind of... dreams you'll have." He gave the elder Nobody a very toothy, pointed grin, delighting in the way Vexen's skin went paler than usual. "Goodnight..."

Vexen's eyes flicked around, twitching at every small sound. He felt _cold_ , a highly-unusual experience for him. This place was _unnatural_. Or maybe it was _too_ natural... He had never been dumped into the middle of a forest before. He was more used to sterile, sanitary labs, not the sticky sap and detritus of the forest floor.

As the minutes, perhaps hours, ticked by, his thoughts grew increasingly dismal. _You know... perhaps I really_ am _dead... and this is hell._

That made horrible sense. Why else would he be stuck where he was, with who he was trapped with? Axel, of all people. _Axel._ It just wasn't _fair_.

Something stung him on the small of his back, and he bit into his jaw with a muffled yelp. _What the hell was_ that?

There was another sharp sting, and he batted at it. Then another sting on his hip, and two more on one thigh.

It was _extremely_ painful, and he couldn't stop a shriek from waking everyone else up. Axel sat up with a start, the fire flaring with his shock and surprise, and Vexen could clearly see dozens of little red ants swarming over the lower half of his body.

Number Four screamed like a girl, and leaped to his feet, doing a frantic, desperate dance to get the stinging, biting insects off of him.

Axel started to laugh, until he realized that his foot was also directly in the path of the swarm. And the fact that, despite his boots, his foot was in quite a bit of pain. The ants were _in his boots_. Now it wasn't funny at all; rather, it was an extremely serious and dire situation.

As Axel stripped off of his boot, howling, Larxene zapped the few stray ants that had crawled onto her, and escaped with little more than a mild few bites on her arms. They hurt, but it was nothing like the agony Axel and Vexen endured. "Great campsite, Marluxia. Did you know about this?"

"Hardly," Marluxia examined the insects from a bit of a distance, standing well back. "Interesting. What are they?"

"Ants, you idiot," Zexion already had a mud poltice clapped to the side of his face that had been stung. "Red ants."

"I _know_ that they're ants," Marluxia glanced over at Zexion, lips twitching. His hair hid most of the swollen line of cheek and jaw, but it was clear he was in some pain. "I was wondering as to their species."

"Who _cares_!" Axel hopped on one foot a good distance away from the continual swarm of ants. "Kill 'em!"

"Are you insane?" Vexen, who had dragged himself to the nearby brook and was soaking his lower half in the frozen water, shot back. "Are you mad? There's millions of them, and they're _ants_!"

"It would be a waste of our energy and power," Marluxia agreed, taking a few more steps away from the now-growing swarm. "Though I think the other side of the stream is a better place to be..."

"Idiot," Zexion repeated, clearly in a foul mood. "Moron. Ass." Lexaeus tried to sooth him with a touch on his shoulder, and was violently rebuffed, and crossed the steam in silence.

Once the others were on the other side of the stream (with Vexen still in it, soaking in the numbing, blessed waters), Larxene enjoyed zapping a few ants here and there, before nimbly skipping across the river on a few stones.

Unless _she_ chose it, she wasn't fond of getting wet.

Once she settled on the other side, the argument began anew. "We should leave at once," Vexen insisted, dragging himself out of the stream. "Obviously, this place is dangerous."

"Maybe for you," Marluxia smirked faintly. "However, the rest of us are handling this perfectly."

"Speak for yourself," Zexion hissed, one hand touching the poultice around his eye. "I agree with Vexen."

"Hold on," Axel held up a hand. "We can't just go around opening up portals all over the place. That'll be a big, shiny "HI THERE, HERE WE ARE!" to the Organization."

"Then what do _you_ suggest, Number Eight?" Vexen snapped, unable to quite get away from the use of rank and number. "How would _you_ go around this?"

"This campsite is a bit safer." Axel gingerly touched his foot. "Besides, some of us can't walk right now."

"Meaning you," Larxene, always ready to snipe at the other side, pointed out.

"Shut up," Axel shot her a glare, hands twitching slightly. "I'm good enough to help build a shelter, right? So we build a shelter and hang out around here for a while, until we're forgotten about. Then we rejoin civilization."

"That's too dangerous," Zexion disagreed immediately. "Our enemies may be looking for us, even now. Who knows what _he_ is capable of now..."

A shiver passed through all three elder Nobodies, and they looked away from everyone else, briefly lost in their thoughts.

"...ok, so that leaves us what, hiking through a cold, miserable forest with different animals than we're used to, no idea what we can eat, nothing _to_ eat or drink?" Axel drawled, putting his arms behind his head. "Here we've got a stream, and we can hunt..."

"We shall compromise," Marluxia cut in, with that damned air of command that, at the moment, most of the company wanted to beat out of him. "We shall stay here for some time, gathering supplies... and our strength... then we shall move."

It was a _good_ idea. But no one wanted to admit that, seeing as Marluxia was the one to come up with it.

"Our enemies," Vexen began, just as Axel broke in with "And how are we gonna move?" at the same time as Zexion coldly added "And just _how long_ is 'some time'?"

Marluxia's eyes narrowed, and his lips curled up slightly. "Well, then. I would _so love_ to hear your input. Later. I was so... rudely awoken by someone." He gave Vexen a sidelong, condescending look. "But now, it's time to sleep."

"Ass," Vexen growled, trying to make himself comfortable.

"Mm." Marluxia smirked slightly, settling himself against a tree. "Goodnight, gentlemen. Lady."


	3. Chapter 002 - Dark Forest - The First

Chapter 002 : Dark Forest - The First Morning.  
Location: Dark Forest  
Characters: Vexen, Marluxia, Axel, Larxene, Lexaeus, Zexion  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, swearing  
Summary: Life in the forest means new experiences, none of which are pleasant. 

**Chapter 002 : Dark Forest - The First Morning.**

* * *

The dreary, pale light shining though the canopy hardly classified as 'dawn' by Zexion's standards. Dawn should be bright and full of the chirping of birds, not accompanied by a chilly mist and dew soaking into his clothes. No literary description had ever mentioned the unpleasantness of the outdoors in quite this way. Heaving himself up from the rock he'd been sitting on, he crossed the clearing to wake Lexaeus up. His stiff joints protested after being still for hours. Nevertheless, he had preferred staying awake himself rather than making one of the despicable traitors replace him. Leaving Axel or, for that matter, Marluxia, awake alone out here would only have been abysmally stupid.

Lexaeus was stretched out beneath a fir tree, solid as a boulder on the ground. Zexion gently touched his shoulder. He was loath to wake him, but they needed to start the day. No matter how far they had travelled from Oblivion, he still had a crushing sense of urgency hanging over him. They had to do _something_ to redress the situation. Something.

Number Five opened his eyes, a look in his eyes that was almost disappointment. He nodded silently in response to Zexion's apologetic glance. His movements were as awkward as the other's as he sat up and rolled his shoulders.

"Any trouble?" Even his voice sounded hoarser than usual to Zexion's ears.

"No. Hardly a mouse moving around, and everyone has been sleeping soundly. I have not noticed any dark auras, apart from our own." Offering a hand, he helped Lexaeus to his feet before hobbling down to the stream for a drink. Around the small clearing, the others began to wake; Axel was picking leaves out of his hair as Larxene stirred between the roots of a large tree. Vexen had opted to sleep in the grass next to the stream, as far away as possible from Marluxia. The assassin in question was the only one still asleep, in a patch of ferns on the other side of the open space.

The water was cold and clear as Zexion bent over it, so clear that he could see the water plants and small fishes swimming underneath the surface. He wrinkled his nose as he lifted a handful to his mouth. It tasted… well, not _bad_ per se, but with an aftertaste of earth and living things (and dead ones as well, probably) that jarred horribly with the memory of the sterile, pure water in Oblivion.

A shape appeared next to him in the brook's mirror and then Vexen was kneeling beside him, greedily gulping down the water. The man truly looked a bit worse for wear, with twigs in his hair and a ragged face. Zexion idly wondered whether it was the ant bites or just the night in the forest that had caused his discomfort.

"Good morning, Number Four." His polite greeting only earned him an irritated grumble. The other man clearly wasn't in an agreeable mood.

One by one, the Nobodies rose and stumbled down to the stream to splash water on their faces and quench the worst hunger with the flowing water. Other morning arrangements led to some commotion.  
"No!" Larxene hissed, " It is _not_ a small matter! The ladies' forest is _that_ way, the men's forest _that_ way! If I get one of you lousy lot stumbling through my bushes when I go about my business it's a knife in the guts, no questions asked! Understood?!"

Axel had tried to raise some leering objections but a yellow kunai waved in the vicinity of his face, along with disapproving frowns from the rest of the group, quickly ended that particular argument.

After the damp, uncomfortable night, tempers already frayed were now stretched to the breaking point. The group had gathered on the presumably insect-free rocks next to the brook. Hostile glances were exchanged all around, apart from Vexen who flat-out refused to even look at Marluxia.

"So, what are we to do?" Zexion was tense. There must be a solution, a way back to their regular lives.

Larxene snorted. "Do? We keep away, of course. I have no intention of meeting either Xemnas or the Keyblade masters right now."

"Idiots!" Vexen's voice was shrill and high pitched. "Of course we must go back! To do otherwise would be the worst kind of treason."

"It… will not look good, that we ran… left Oblivion without reporting back to The World That Never Was." There was an uncertainty in Zexion's voice that he hated to hear. He saw it mirrored in the faces around him.

"Yeah, but right now Xemnas doesn't even know we're here. He thinks us dead, he must, with Oblivion swarmed over by enemies. We're off the hook here!" Axel's smirk did nothing to calm down the rest of the group.

Reluctantly, Lexaeus nodded. "Yes. We can stay here, until we have found a way to plead our case to the Superior…"

"You are a fool." Marluxia ignored the angry glances from most of the party present, using his most regal and authoritarian voice. "If we go back, the Organization will surely judge us harshly. We will stay away, planning out a clear course of action."

"Shut _up_! You don't have any right to give me orders, traitor!" Zexion could see Axel wince as the pitch of Vexen's voice reached new heights.

"If you don't like it, crawl back to Xemnas on your own, Vexen." Axel's smile was sharp, and the elder predictably blanched at the notion. "How _dare_ you?!"

"No." Zexion's voice was sharp. "No one will wander off alone. Least of all back to the Superior!" He felt rather than saw Lexaeus nodding in agreement.

Vexen snorted. "I had no intention to return alone. If I go back, I'm taking these traitors with me!" Larxene shrieked in anger and Marluxia hissed angrily. After that, not much productive was said for a while.

In the end, six Nobodies were glaring at each other, faces flushed and angry. Marluxia tried once again to take control of the discussion. "We will not gain anything from this kind of behaviour..."

"Fine one to talk," Vexen snarled.

Lexaeus rumbled something displeased and irritated, and both Vexen and Marluxia fell silent.  
"Stop this. Are we in agreement, at least, to stay here for the time being?"

All around the circle, Nobodies nodded reluctantly. The sun had now risen a good portion of its way towards the zenith and the escapees felt their stomachs complain. More earthly matters needed to be dealt with.

"Damnit!" Larxene ran across the clearing, trying to get a clear throw at the rabbit scampering for the trees. She had spent what felt like _hours_ sneaking up on the thing! The animal reached the first thicket as the knife thudded into the earth a hand's width away. In enraged desperation, Larxene channelled lightening though the kunai into the surrounding area hoping to stun the damn creature before it escaped.

Electricity sparked through the air in great arches, flying into grass and trees. The resulting bang echoed though the forest, scaring every bird within hearing to rise to the air in a horrible racket of caws and cries. Larxene eyed them with furious distain. They were all out of her reach! Looking down again, she saw flames licking across the ground. Her kunai was already surrounded by burning grass. With an undignified squeak, she jumped out of the flames' path and half ran back to the brook.

"That was incredibly clumsy." Larxene wanted nothing more than putting a fist into that scornful scowl. Vexen in this mood was completely insufferable, especially when he had a grain of truth in his claims. The dark smoke from the wildfire she had started still smudged the sky, even though the on-and-off rain had kept it from spreading. Axel had –with a horribly patronising smile- killed the flames, and now only smoking wood remained. She was still in a foul mood about it, and so snarled at the meagre collection of foodstuffs laid out on a leaf next to the fire.

"Oh yeah? Look at what you guys found, five mushrooms and a heap of… are those berries or animal droppings?"

"Sneer as much as you like. At least we brought back food." Larxene stomped off, leaving Vexen triumphant in the middle off the clearing. As she threw herself down on a handy rock, Axel and Lexaeus emerged from the woods lugging big armfuls of branches. The elders had vocally opposed anyone heading out in the forest alone, and had insisted they at least go in pairs. They had also been loathe to the idea of the neophytes alone and unsupervised. Larxene had only managed to get away by pointing out that none of the elders could stalk worth a damn though a real forest.

Marluxia had gone with Vexen and Zexion looking for edibles, and the pink-haired assassin was probably the only reason the group had come back with anything at all. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, her stomach was protesting louder than ever.

The group had gathered around the fire, staring at the tiny heap of food. Lexaeus knelt next to it and, with great care, divided the food into six reasonably equal heaps. The clearing had the air of armies sizing each other up for a war. Everyone glared daggers at the surrounding competition, though in the end, despite some appraising and hungry glances, no one made any attempt for a bigger share.

The food was gone way too soon, and didn't even begin to full up hungry stomachs. What was left was six Nobodies in no better mood than before. The light of the sun was growing fainter. It was clear no more attempt to find food could be attempted until the next day. Bereft of any tasks to perform, the bickering predictably started up again.

"If you hadn't been such a passive coward, this would never have happened." Vexen growled at Zexion and Lexaeus both. Zexion snorted in answer, while Lexaeus frowned.

"Our failure was minor compared to the treason committed by some other people present here."

"You're useless", Marluxia stated with an aloof face to a snarling Larxene, "Why didn't you take care of Sora when you had the chance?"

"Why didn't you?!"

Axel received the most hostile glances, mostly because Vexen refused to even admit Marluxia's presence among them. Number Eight smirked as much as ever, but there was a new tension to his shoulders. The distrust towards him was almost palpable in the air.

In the end, the squabbling died out simply by lack of energy. Vexen eyed a rip in his coat with disdain before sighing.

"It might be a good idea to take stock of our resources. I managed to secure a few potions and the like before our… departure. What about the rest of you?"

Digging through pockets and various hiding places, the groups managed to produce a small number of miss-matched items. There was a very limited number of potions and elixirs; the glass phials shimmering in the light of the fire. Vexen's heart sank as he counted them, and he was glad he hadn't offered up _every_ vial that he had for the general muster.

Zexion counted them over and shook his head. "So few…"

 _I'm quite sure you have a few left in your own pockets, Schemer,_ Vexen thought. Most had come from himself and Lexaeus; they had been the ones who had had any time to prepare after the catastrophe had become a fact.

"Can't you just make more?" Axel asked the three elders, and Vexen snorted.

"Of course. If you found me a well-equipped lab and the correct ingredients, all of which appears to be rather lacking here and now."

"Oh."

Apart from the phials of liquid, it was a diverse little pile. Seven pens, from various persons, a few dog eared pieces of paper, a candy bar from Axel, a necklace Zexion wouldn't divulge the origin of and a piece of string. Marluxia had had one of Naminee's crayons in his pocket. A small comb, some paperclips and a scattering of now-useless Oblivion Cards finished off the collection.

Larxene picked up one off the pens. "Hey, isn't this mine? I remember last seeing it three months ago." Zexion mumbled something vague in reply.

Lexaeus spoke up. "We should ration those potions."

The suggestion was met with frowns from some individuals, but Zexion and Vexen nodded. "Yes. They should only be used in the uttermost emergency."

"Those are my property," Marluxia protested, indicating the two vials he had put forth.

"The situation is too grave to leave that kind of decisions to individuals!" Vexen snarled.

"Ah, so we're setting up our own little organization here, Vexie?" Larxene looked disgusted. "All rank and orders from above?" Axel grunted in agreement.

Lexaeus shook his head to prevent any outburst from the scientist. "No. We should all be in agreement whenever to use one of them. Consensus. At least until we can find more."

Larxene and Axel looked uncertain, and Marluxia scowled. "I still say I have the right to my own things!"

Vexen's eyes were murderous. "Oh? So you can use the same fine judgement you used when you caused the whole Castle, the whole design of Oblivion to come crashing down around us?! You can't be trusted!"

"Consensus." Lexaeus repeated himself like a calming mantra. "How many here think the potions should be held collectively?"

There was some grumbling and hesitation, but in the end, fours hands were raised. Axel smirked at Marluxia and Larxene.

"Sorry guys, but I didn't bring any for myself."

Marluxia tossed his head with an indifferent air. "Very well. As for who should be carrying them…"

Vexen began to gather the vials without looking at the assassin, ignoring his angry hiss at the interruption.

"Now that that matter is dealt with… pens and papers are clearly worthless out here. What about the rest?"

Larxene picked up the string and paper clips. "Maybe these…"

The makeshift fishing line disappeared into the water. Larxene could see the glint of the paperclip below the surface, and the poor bug used as bait. _Come on, come on… a big, juicy bug just for you, fishies_. But no, the fishies appeared to have gone to bed, just as the group was doing behind her. She could _see_ the small sleek bodies sniffing around the paperclip-hook, but so far no takers. She threw a careful glance over her shoulder. Vexen and Marluxia were one again on opposite sides of the clearing, carefully not looking at each other. Lexaeus and Zexion had settled down underneath the fir tree. Axel was nowhere to be seen, presumably out doing his business in the woods. She turned her eyes back to the water. It would take just a small, small charge… the fish was just inches away from the metal, and with the conductivity of the water…

She channelled a tiny amount of electricity into the metal, a short burst that raced through the water of the small brook. Even as she cheered at the fish floating up to the surface, stunned and limp, she heard a yell from around the bend of the stream. That sounded like... Axel?

She threw the fish on the grass and raced around the trees, emerging on the shore and finding the fire elemental up to the waist in the water. His normally wild hair stood up even straighter from his head, and he had a slightly shocked look on his face. Realization hit Larxene even as the others crashed out of the trees. She stumbled back to the campsite howling with laughter, followed by Axel's curses.

"Damn you, bitch!"

"See it as a sacrifice, Axel! At least you'll get breakfast!"


	4. Chapter 003 - Between A Rock (XXX)

Chapter: 003 - Between A Rock And A Hard Place  
Location: Dark Forest  
Characters: Marluxia, Zexion, Lexaeus  
Rating/Warnings: NC-17/MA. Violence. Non-consensual sex. Swearing.  
Summary: A full half-week has gone by without any really serious schemes or backstabbing. Naturally it was too good to last very long. 

**Chapter 003 : Dark Forest - Between A Rock And A Hard Place.**

* * *

This certainly was a most unfortunate turn of events, Marluxia thoughtfully mused as he made his way through the forest.

Never in any possible scenario imagined during the development of his grand plan had he ever expected to find himself stranded in a gods-forsaken forest, _a rainy, insect-infested gods-forsaken forest, thank you_ , along with his constantly squabbling former subordinates.

It had been supposed to be a point of no return. The final gamble. Death or victory; to majestically stand triumphant or go down in a blaze of glory.  
Never had mosquitoes figured in his visions. He honestly felt quite cheated.

In the not-too-far distance Larxene and Vexen were having yet another loud and pointless argument, lazily cheered on by Axel and failing to be controlled by Lexaeus. He winced and rubbed the bridge of his nose. You would think after half a week out here they would have learned to channel their energy into more productive pastimes, but painfully apparently not so. Amateurs.

What the group needed, desperately needed, was a leader.

No more pointless arguments, no more pulling in different directions, no more of Lexaeus' idealistically naïve 'consensus', which never worked anyway on account of both unspoken sides consisting of three people, and disagreeing on principle.  
The recent development had been completely unexpected and was nowhere near ideal by any stretch of the imagination, but despite Vexen's apparent beliefs, complaining about it would not do anything to improve it. The insufferable old idiot.

The group needed a leader, a clear course of action, and then against all odds perhaps they could actually stay alive long enough to make themselves a low-profile future elsewhere.  
Work with what they had. Perhaps not a castle, servants, power enough to make a shot for omnipotence, but right at the moment the very notion of a future at all had gained quite a lot of merit in itself. At least if you considered the alternatives. Which no sane person would willingly do.  
He shuddered and quickly turned his thoughts away from that particular path.

The elders were still talking about going back, as though there was anything to go back to, any chance at all for redemption. A _proper_ leader would soon disperse any such counter-productive ideas, shape up the group, make them all understand both the gravity and potential of the current state of affairs.

Which was of course the reason he was purposefully approaching the rocky terrain upstream where Zexion had taken up what he called 'scouting for supplies' and everyone else thought of as 'sneaking off to spare himself the agony of listening through another of Vexen's and Larxene's tantrums'.

For all her venom he was quite certain he could still count the Savage Nymph as one of his most trusted allies; she was if anything even more adverse than he to the elders and the stale bureaucracy of the Organization.  
Vexen… would not be a problem, not when it really mattered. He'd brought the man under his heel before, if forced to he could do it again. The prickly scientist was rash, not stupid, and the right buttons very easy to find, easier yet to push.  
And Axel would come around. The fiery brute might be completely untrustworthy, but he wasn't stupid either. If kept on a short leash he could be useful.

Which left Zexion and Lexaeus. The towering earth-elemental was bound to follow wherever the shifty illusionist went, and Zexion himself was infamous for avoiding conflict whenever possible.  
Hopefully it would be an easy task convincing the young man it was in his best interest to comply. And if not, well. Zexion was _not_ known for his prowess in physical combat. One way or another, he would be persuaded.

The group desperately needed a leader.  
The notion it could be possibly anyone aside from himself, the Graceful Assassin, Lord of Castle Oblivion, was simply laughable.

The night had been hell, with heavy clouds spewing forth a steady downpour completely drenching the forest, turning their campsite to mud and transforming every patch of leaves and twigs into slippery death-traps.  
Morning had finally dawned bringing hesitant sunlight which, while preferable over the rain, had then turned the wet forest into a sticky, steaming sauna. With mosquitoes in it.

Zexion was in a foul mood indeed.

The vastly uncomfortable insight that they were stuck here had ruthlessly pressed on until it could no longer be ignored. Smacking another of the wretched flying blood-suckers against his already ant-bitten cheek he ran the problem through his head over and over again, desperately seeking an angle.

 _We could go back_.  
Back to the purity of Oblivion or sterile asceticism of The Castle That Never Was. Static and controlled environments more suited for creatures whose existence was already so fragile without brutish worldly variables threatening to unravel the delicate memories at the core of their being.

 _But we ran_ , he reluctantly conceded. _We really shouldn't have done that. We should have stayed, or returned back to Never Was to report the moment things went wrong._

 _But we couldn't_ , he countered. The neophytes would never have come willingly, and no-one had been in a shape to fight right then, wrenched back from the very jaws of death on a whim by a panicking scientist.

 _We could have stayed put, waited the enemies out. Regained our strength before we moved._ Thought _before we moved.  
But we didn't. We panicked, and we ran._

Xemnas wouldn't be too impressed with that explanation, he knew. Nobodies logically shouldn't even be able to feel fear. But even the lowliest of beasts had the instinct to run when in danger, didn't they? And Nobodies were thinking rational creatures.  
 _Knowing exactly how many and how powerful the enemies were._  
Damn it all.

He shifted and leaned back against the tree trunk behind him, trying to find a more comfortable position, which only served to send a shower of droplets from the wet branches above him down his neck, and he swore under his breath.

The most aggravating thing about the whole business was that he knew full well they could have prevented it all from happening before it even started. A quick word with Xemnas the moment Sora arrived and the traitor's plans had become apparent would have taken care of the whole thing.  
But they hadn't had any truly solid proof, and Marluxia was offensively skilled at snaking his way out of any accusations made against him. It had been so tempting to let the fool's own hubris do the work, watch with detached glee as his plans came tumbling down to destroy him.

But no, of _course_ Vexen couldn't have that, he just _had_ to get involved. And then Riku had unexpectedly shown up. And the mouse-king.  
 _And-..._

" Why, good afternoon, Zexion. So this is where you have escaped to?"

Not even trying to hide his distaste he shot the tall Assassin a profoundly sour look. The bastard had no business moving so silently, nor looking so poised and graceful even when standing to his ankles in mud and drooping weeds. _Maybe the filth and compost goes perfectly with his element_ , he thought spitefully, fully aware he was being petty.

" I have certainly not _escaped_ anywhere," he replied. " I'm merely selective with the company I keep."  
Marluxia smiled slightly and sat down by a tree next to his, and he could have _sworn_ the roots moved slightly to make the Assassin more comfortable, well away from the mud.  
" Ah. That makes two of us, then."  
He refrained from even commenting on that, the slight curl to his lip proof enough that the contrived man would _never_ be the company he willingly selected.  
" What do you want, Marluxia?"  
He couldn't tell why a shudder suddenly ran down his spine as deep blue eyes locked onto his own, but he did know he didn't like the sensation, nor the ghost of a smile playing over the man's lips.  
" How straightforward! And here I was under the impression you were one to love little games and intricacies... Very well. I wanted to talk to you. I do believe we can help one another."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. Marluxia was only ever truly pleasant when he was about to soon become _un_ pleasant. The realization belatedly hit home that if he was far away enough from the others that he couldn't hear their screaming, that meant _they_ couldn't hear _his_ screams either.

" Help each other?"  
" Quite. It cannot have escaped your attention how the constant arguments and petty disagreements keep us inefficiently divided and robbed of all initiative. Not to mention how it wears everyone down, sapping energy that could be put to so much better use."

Well. That almost made sense, rare enough from the arrogant former Lord of Oblivion.

" And..?" Zexion warily prompted. Marluxia made a thoughtful gesture.  
" It's quite apparent what must be done. The group must be unified if we are to stand a chance. By force, if necessary. _One_ goal, _one_ plan. One leader."

Ah. So _that_ was it. He caught Marluxia's sidelong glance and quickly looked away with a frown. The mere thought of handing their future over in the ruthless megalomaniac's hands was insane. Unfortunately, he suspected, so was Marluxia; insane in the dangerous, brilliant way of a snake killing for the pleasure of it.

" So you say?" he mumbled noncommittally, avoiding eye-contact. Of course he was almost certain Marluxia wouldn't dare to cause him any harm even should he openly disagree. Almost.  
Better to play it safe, though. You never could tell with the man.  
" Well, yes," Marluxia continued. " It's quite obvious when you stop and think about it. Which is possibly the one thing no-one has done ever since we arrived here."  
The Assassin leaned back and thoughtfully studied the dripping canopy above with a thin smile.  
" You are a practical, intelligent man, Zexion. Sometimes I wonder if you're not the only other sensible- or at least sane person around."  
Sharp eyes ruthlessly caught his own again.  
" Which is of course why I decided to come to you. Like I said, I'm certain we can help each other."  
The man actually thought he would let himself be manipulated to become his puppet? Talked into supporting his foolish ambition?

" Flattered, I'm sure," he said, quite sharply, unable to help himself. " Does this mutual helpfulness by any chance boil down to me helping you declare yourself supreme prince of the forest, and you helping me to _not_ have any unfortunate accidents of the kind that happen so easily when one is not careful?"  
He stood, giving the sitting man a cool stare down his nose, savouring the chance to look down at him for once.  
" I'm not interested, Marluxia. If you had any brains whatsoever you'd realize you're lucky you're tolerated among us at all and be content with that."  
It was a _good_ glare, and it was quite a disappointment when the amused smile spreading over the pink-haired man's lips told him it had been completely wasted.  
" Intelligent indeed," Marluxia said, rising gracefully from his perch among the roots. " But perhaps not all that clever."

Zexion narrowed his eyes and took a step back as the taller man approached him only to find himself trapped against the tree behind him. There was a dangerous dark gleam in Marluxia's eyes as he came closer, predator staring down prey.  
" I'm not afraid of you," Zexion hissed, the words unthinkingly sliding off his tongue. " Your games won't work here. We're all in this together. You can't harm me. You wouldn't dare."  
The bastard had the audacity to give him a fleeting smile.  
" Is that so..?"  
Zexion wanted to curse his less than impressive stature as the older man placed one deceivingly delicate hand against the tree trunk beside his head and leaned forward, almost a full head taller than himself. Unable to do much else, he glared.  
Marluxia caught and held his gaze, the deep blue intensity of his eyes almost hypnotic.

" You really want to be on my side rather than against me, Zexion. The strong rule, the weak submit. That is nature's way."  
The slightest quirk of a smile ghosted over the Assassin's face as he cupped Zexion's chin lightly in his gloved hand.  
" And the weak who don't know when to submit are overrun and destroyed. I'm sure we would all be loath to have that happen."  
Wrenching his chin free and just barely resisting the urge to plant his knee where the flowery man would _really_ feel it he ducked under the arm holding him captive against the tree. Cursing as his feet slipped in the mud he quickly stumbled away, wanting to put as much distance as possible between himself and the Assassin.

Marluxia calmly turned and looked at him, poised as ever, seemingly in no rush to catch up.  
" Stay away from me, Marluxia," he growled and started backing away in the general direction of the campsite, ready to summon his shadows and illusions if the man made any attempt to corner him again.  
" You won't find what you're looking for here. Had it been up to me we would never have brought you back in the first place. Threaten me again and I'll kill you."  
Marluxia remained standing by the tree, that little infuriating amused smirk still on his lips.

" What a pity," he said, tone mild. " At least then we know where we stand. Have a care in the wilderness, Zexion," he called as the Schemer turned tail and hurried towards the camp.  
" It would be most tragic if you were to have one of those little... accidents on your way back."  
Zexion threw dignity to the wind and ran.

When the short man had disappeared out of sight he let his smirk fade and grimaced in annoyance. That certainly could have worked out better. The boy was clever; just bit too clever to be manipulated, but obviously not clever enough to realize his own good. He might have to be dealt with eventually if he insisted on sporting such an uncooperative attitude; that kind of contrary behaviour really wouldn't do the group any good in the long run.

Looking down he noticed the mud covering his boots and made a grimace; trust a scholar to know every aisle of any library yet picking a mud-pit in a forest full of convenient cliffs and boulders for his resting place.  
Following the sound of running water he made his way through the rocky terrain towards the stream, contemplating the recent conversation in depth.  
Perhaps the man would come around when he realized it was for the best of the group to listen...

Lost in thought he didn't notice Lexaeus until he nearly walked into the man.

He would have liked to think that if the other hadn't had the element of surprise on his side he would easily have been a match for him. As it was the sudden iron grip around his throat made any such abstract thinking very irrelevant indeed.  
His boots left the ground, mud and all, and there was no time to even let out a gasp of surprise before his air-supply was cut off.

Lexaeus' face was as stoic and unreadable as ever, but the look in his eyes was dark, close to murderous.  
" I couldn't help but overhear," he said, his deep voice somewhat raspy as though only rarely used, " part of your discussion just now."  
Marluxia writhed in his grip, tried to claw and pry at the impossibly strong hand choking him, but without much success. Lack of oxygen made his limbs heavy and uncooperative, and even when he did manage to land a blow or kick it was like attacking a rock; Lexaeus didn't even blink.

" You see," the large man calmly continued, " There is the difference between civilized creatures and savage beasts. Thinking creatures work in packs, utilizing _all_ their assets, not only the brute strength of one individual."  
The Assassin's vision was slowly going dark and every cell in his body screamed out for air. He kicked and twisted helplessly, summoning darkness into the familiar shape of his scythe but the hand around his throat squeezed hard in warning and he quickly let the weapon dissipate before it solidified in his hands. No matter, by now he was too weak to even hold it, much less wield it.  
The roar of rushing blood in his ears almost drowned out the sound of the Silent Hero's voice, it reached him distant and distorted.

" There is one thing you may wish to consider at some length, before putting too much faith in your conception of the world," the large man lectured, turning slightly. He vaguely registered the heels of his boots bumping into something behind him before almost blacking out as his uncooperative body was pressed down against one of the large boulders.  
Only then was the pressure around his neck relieved somewhat and he desperately gulped down lungfulls of air before it could tighten again.  
Lexaeus leaned down over him, and when his eyes met the larger man's he felt a sting of something uncomfortably close to fear; those eyes were as flat and ruthless as flint, hard and unyielding as the very bedrock.

" If, according to your reasoning, the strong are meant to rule and the weak must submit or be destroyed... You had better submit. Because, Marluxia, you are _not_ the strongest here."  
He struggled weakly as that accursed hand closed tighter around his throat again, shying away as Lexaeus' face leaned closer until it was only half an inch from his own.  
" And you will never rule over us again. Do you understand?"

He tried to nod, wheeze an answer, but couldn't move, had no air to speak. He blinked desperately, trying to convey his compliance, knowing and hating that right here and now he was completely at the tall man's mercy.  
Unfortunately the gleam in those hard eyes hinted there was not much mercy to be had.

After what felt like an eternity Lexaeus finally released his grip enough to let him breathe again, leaving him coughing and retching, struggling to suck air through his sore, abused throat into his aching lungs.

As oxygen returned, so did his righteous indignation. The man had no right to treat him like this, pinning him flat on his back like some submissive dog!  
If the earth-elemental thought the Graceful Assassin would go down without a fight he was in for a surprise.

Clawing savagely at Lexaeus' eyes for a diversion he braced against the hard rock to push the taller man away before those strong fingers could close in another vice-like choke-hold. He was strong and lithe, and the manoeuvre _should_ by all accounts have resulted in the older man staggering back, completely unbalanced.  
He couldn't hold back a choked noise of surprise and horror as instead of pressing against the rock he felt his feet sink into it, plunging through stone as though it was wet clay. Lexaeus removed his glowing hand from the boulder and firmly caught the wrist of the hand clawing at his face. He pried it away with ease, almost breaking bone in the process.

Marluxia twisted frantically, struggling to free his legs, but the rock was once again hard and solid and he couldn't move them at all. With dawning dread he realized he was hopelessly trapped until Lexaeus saw fit to let the stone release him; something that he, judging from his stern expression, was in no mood to do anytime soon.  
" It seems you still don't understand," the stoic warrior said and shook his head resignedly, letting go of his bruised wrist.  
" Although why you insist on clinging to a philosophy that renders you the loser I don't comprehend."  
Marluxia gave up his struggling and shot the other a dark glare.  
" What are you going to do to me?"  
Lexaeus gave him an unreadable look.  
" Do? Nothing. It was you who stated that the weak who do not bend to superior power must be destroyed. If that is what you insist on believing, I wouldn't dream of trying to convince you otherwise."

He glared suspiciously as the larger man straightened and stepped back. A few futile tugs proved his feet were still securely trapped in solid stone, the uncomfortable angle of his legs already making them numb.  
" You can't leave me here like this!" he sputtered as Lexaeus turned and started walking away.  
A vague shrug was his only response. No matter how he squirmed and pulled he was trapped, unable to move his legs even a fraction of an inch.  
" Lexaeus!" he yelled before the man disappeared among the trees. The looming figure halted and looked back over his shoulder.

He ground his teeth, loath to call the bastard back, but it didn't take a genius to understand that being left behind, trapped and unable to move would be very bad indeed. And even if Larxene or Vex-… Axel decided to come look for him, how would they get him loose? He swore bitterly.  
" Lexaeus, come back here. Release me."  
He hated how it came out sounding more like a meek request than the regal command it was intended as. At least the accursed rock-elemental was heading back towards him, seemingly in no hurry. As the man placed a hand beside his head and leaned over him, mirroring his own gesture with Zexion earlier he scowled angrily, the irony not lost on him.

" Release me," he repeated with a cool glare, refusing to flinch despite the sudden proximity.  
" Being ruled over by the strong is not so fun, now, is it?" Lexaeus prompted, as solid and unmoving as the hard rock below. He suppressed a shudder and narrowed his eyes.  
" I will not beg," he hissed  
" But you will submit," Lexaeus calmly stated. " And learn why your ambition will never be tolerated by neither those weaker nor stronger than you."

He snarled in helpless fury, but knew he could only push so far to preserve his dignity. If Lexaeus turned to leave a second time something told him the man wouldn't be coming back. And being left imprisoned like this, a sacrificial offering to whatever wild beasts thrived in these godsforsaken forests…  
There was no dishonour in accepting temporary defeat against a stronger, superior enemy. At least he kept telling himself that as he ground out his surrender between clenched teeth.  
" Fine. You win. What more do you want from me?"

Lexaeus nodded. He didn't move a muscle, looking as impassive as ever, but a massive hand slid over Marluxia's chest, then methodically began unzipping his prisoner's robes.  
Marluxia's eyes went wide with shock and disbelief; whatever punishment he had expected from the Silent Hero, this certainly wasn't it.  
" You can't be serious," he gasped, forcefully trying to push the man away.  
" It has worked for you before, hasn't it? It's time you place yourself in the other man's shoes for once. Pay attention. Perhaps you will actually learn a valuable lesson."

Despite the man's infuriating calm there was enough of a warning edge to the raspy voice that he let his hands fall back to his sides, forcing himself to stay silent.

So be it, then; if the man thought he would be cowed and broken by mere physical intimacy he was a poor judge of character. He had suffered worse, much worse than touch and unwelcome intrusion; enduring a short while of discomfort was a small price to pay to be freed.  
 _Afterwards, however..._  
Afterwards Lexaeus would be wise to be careful. Given the time and opportunity to find a single invisible crack, a delicate flower could shatter the hardest rock.

Perhaps the most disturbing thing was how _methodical_ , meticulous the man was. There was no malice, no apparent lust in his touch, merely the almost casual attention to the procedure of folding away robes, unbuckling belt and tugging down pants.  
Marluxia grimaced with the discomfort of being left so helplessly exposed, but clenched his jaw and refused to look away.

As Lexaeus equally calmly folded aside his own clothes, however, he couldn't hold back a pang of apprehension. The large man was… proportional, with the size to go with his height and muscular build. He was fucking _huge_.

His mouth had gone strangely dry, and he couldn't suppress a flinch as the man leaned over him again, a solid, warm form between his uncomfortably spread thighs.  
Still he refused to look away, meeting the rock elemental's eyes with proud defiance.  
He would show no weakness.

Then he felt a massive intrusion pressing against him and realized Lexaeus intended to take him dry and unprepared, and he tensed and closed his eyes despite himself. He grabbed handfuls of the leather-coat beneath him tightly in his fists, forced himself to relax to ease the unavoidable discomfort.

Nothing could have prepared him for the pain.

He screamed until his already abused throat bled, back arching impossibly with the agony, hands clenching the coat in a shaking, white-knuckled grip.

 _Gods! Oh gods, gods, gods..._

Lexaeus pulled away slightly, granting him a brief moment to catch his breath before ruthlessly pressing against him again.  
Even through the dizzying pain he had the foresight to bring one hand to his mouth, biting hard into his sleeve to muffle his screams. Although the chances of the sound carrying far enough were slim, he did _not_ want to risk being discovered by the others in such a compromising position.

The other pulled away one last time, then relentlessly pressed on all the way. He felt something inside him break and screamed again as the huge shaft finally plunged all the way inside.

Nothing could have prepared him for the pain.  
He was far from innocent, knew well the slight discomfort that poor preparation could cause.

This was beyond anything he had ever known. It was not just a soreness where it could be expected; his whole body shut down around him, taut and rigid with the pain, and he could _feel_ all blood draining from his face, cold sweat plastering his hair against his forehead.

Shameful tears blurred his vision, and he simply couldn't bring himself to care.

" _Relax, old man. You're only making it harder on yourself."  
Gods, I didn't realize... I'm sorry..._

He screamed with every thrust until his voice was too ruined to carry, pitiful hoarse whines and whimpers all that remained. The stench of blood was thick in the air, the rough stone beneath his thighs slick with it.

And still Lexaeus was calm and systematic, no spite, malice or pleasure discernible in his rough features; the only hint of emotion in those flint-blue eyes was a vague detached interest, as though gauging and fine-tuning the amounts of dealt pain.

He squeezed his eyes shut again, all pride forgotten, and focused on breathing, on the taste of leather between his teeth and the rhythm of the pain. What little conscious thought was left prayed frantically to all forgotten gods he had never much believed in anyway for it to end, just end, pride, honour and dignity be damned.

Then the rhythm changed and the steady hands on his hips clenched down, fingers digging into his flesh hard enough to bruise. With a slight grunt the rock elemental spilled his release deep inside him, and he knew that, too, was important.  
Tainted, marked, claimed.  
He would not be allowed to forget.

He barely even registered when his cramping legs were released from their rocky prison, gasping with sudden relief that was almost as traumatic as the pain itself as Lexaeus pulled away and the immediate agony began to fade.

Slowly, gracelessly he managed to edge away enough to roll off the boulder, falling into a boneless heap next to it. He curled up, dazed, shivering with shock and pain. Nausea crashed through him and unable to fight it he bent double and threw up the remains of his meagre breakfast among the ferns.

As he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder he flinched violently, trying to twist away but found himself caught between the rock and the towering dark form that was Lexaeus.  
" No, please," he tried to say, no sound escaping his damaged throat. " No more."

He blinked as something caught the sunlight and glinted brightly before his face, focused enough to realize it was a no doubt secretly hoarded vial of potion, and that it was calmly offered to him.  
His head jerked up and he stared at the Silent Hero in bewilderment, but the man's face was as unreadable as ever.

" We will never speak of this again," he said. Marluxia only nodded weakly, unsure of why but knowing he could trust the man on this.  
" You will apologize to him," Lexaeus told him matter-of-factly, and again he just nodded mechanically, unable to think or speak.

Then, as Marluxia made no move to accept the potion, the tall man leaned down and placed it between his trembling fingers.  
The hand on his shoulder, a gesture surprisingly gentle from a man proven capable of causing such pain, was withdrawn as Lexaeus straightened, turned and walked away.

Marluxia was many things, but not stupid.  
With a grimace he pulled the cork from the potion with his teeth and downed the liquid in one gulp, shuddering at the sensation of all the damage taken during the last half-hour beginning to heal, the pain slowly dissipating until it was faint enough to ignore.

Unsteadily he forced himself to his feet and stumbled aimlessly towards the sound of running water, yearning fervently to cleanse himself of more than the mud on his boots.


	5. Chapter 004 - The Apology (XXX)

Chapter: 004: The Apology  
Location: Dark Forest  
Characters: Lexaeus, Zexion, Marluxia  
Ratings/Warnings: NC-17, smut  
Summary: Zexion and Lexaeus... discuss what happened to Marluxia, who makes a brief appearance. 

**Chapter 004 : Dark Forest - The Apology. (XXX)**

* * *

Zexion was watching Lexaeus with eyes that spoke volumes. His entire body said "You've done something interesting... I want to know what it is."

He said nothing, choosing instead to quietly examine the insect Lexaeus had brought to him. "Pretty, but non-venomous, and really rather useless. Your point?"

"Just to see," Lexaeus watched him closely, waiting. Soon he would ask. Very soon.

"Where did you find it?"

Ah. Subtle. So very subtle. Zexion was always subtle, always careful, never giving any hint as to what he ever wanted to know.

"By a spring," Lexaeus responded, carefully vague.

"By yourself?"

"Of course not. To go into this wood alone is utter folly." The larger man shifted his weight. "Is this an inquisition?"

"If it was an inquisition, I would have hot irons," Zexion responded, eyes snapping a brighter blue.

"That might be interesting," Lexaeus deadpanned, chewing down a smirk as Zexion's eyes flashed again.

"You were with...?" His voice was dangerously soft now, as if he already knew the answer, and Lexaeus allowed a faint smile to touch his lips. The younger man sounded _possessive_ , angry, thinking that Marluxia- who, after all, had attempted to assault him- would approach _his_ Lexaeus.

Lexaeus did so enjoy that side of Zexion. "Marluxia," he said, crossing his arms quietly. "We had to... discuss some things."

Now it was Zexion's turn to arch an eyebrow. Lexaeus said nothing, and, with dawning recognition, a smug look spread across the Schemer's face. "I see. You'd heard."

There was no embarrassment- Lexaeus knew there wouldn't be. He was Zexion's protector, and in return...

Well. The rewards were great.

Judging by the way Zexion's eyes narrowed lazily, he may yet reap some of those rewards that day. "I heard. And he must be reminded that he is not our lord and master anymore. If, indeed, he ever was. In fact, he has something to say to you..." Lexaeus raised his head to look over some shrubbery and looked pleased.

Zexion turned, frowning, to watch as Marluxia made his way towards the pair of them. Lexaeus was utterly amused with the way the neophyte moved- slowly, limpingly, as if he ached in every cell.

 _Good._

"What do you want, Marluxia?" Zexion frowned, pulling himself to as full a height as he could manage. "We are in the middle of a discussion."

"It is necessary," the Assassin insisted, looking over Zexion's shoulder at Lexaeus. "Very necessary."

"Very well," Zexion snapped, giving him a slight glare. "Hurry up, then."

"I have to apologize," he said, after a long moment. His voice was very strangled. "I do. Truly. What I did was... unacceptable. Please accept my... most humble apologies."

"Is there anything else?" Lexaeus rumbled, reaching out to put a hand on Zexion's shoulder, making certain Marluxia noted, once again, just how _large_ he was.

"It will not happen again," Marluxia hastened to add. "Of course."

"Of course," Zexion, with a faintly bemused expression, nodded. "Is that all?"

Marluxia stared past him for another moment, and Lexaeus just gave him a smirk. Taking that as a sign, Number Eleven gave a slight, rigid bow, and quickly stalked off.

Or rather, he tried to stalk off. It didn't work too well.

After Marluxia had walked (very stiff-leggedly) off, Zexion looked up at Lexaeus, and finally let a hint of a smile touch his lips. "What did you do this time, hm?"

"You assume I've done something." Lexaeus watched Marluxia's retreating back until it was swallowed by foliage.

"Always," Zexion reached out a hand to trace one of the muscles along Lexaeus' forearm. The larger man closed his eyes and savored the feeling.

"Hm. Ingrate."

Zexion laughed, the sound low in his throat. "So tell me, Lexaeus... what did you do to him?"

"Something suitable for threatening you," Lexaeus' hand squeezed his shoulder possessively. "I reminded him that we should work together as a team... and that he is no longer the strongest among us."

Zexion made a soft sound in the back of his throat that was almost a purr. "And you didn't invite me to watch?"

"It was a... spur of the moment thing." Lexaeus let his free hand work its way into Zexion's hair, and he pulled the smaller man close. He liked the way the Illusionist smelled, dark and clean- nothing like Marluxia, who was much too floral in his scent for the Silent Hero.

Zexion was also much more _responsive_ than Marluxia, which, while unsurprising, pleased him even more than teaching the Assassin the much-needed lesson in manners. He only had to rest one hand _here_ and let his fingers brush _there_ just so, and Zexion was limp in his arms, moaning.

Zexion might command him, yes... But Lexaeus held some true power in the relationship.

He idly let his fingers trail, gaze turning just a touch distant. _Relationship, hm. I suppose that is what we have. Despite... everything. How odd. For such non-existent beings, we certainly still form... attachments._

He rested his chin in Zexion's hair. He knew the smaller man was none-too-pleased about their sudden "outed" status- not that most of the Organization didn't realize that they were joined at the hip, and had probably assumed that they were fucking as well... to be blunt.

Well, it was certainly true... but did it go deeper than that?

Lexaeus cursed his lack of a heart, though always silently, and always so no one else could ever pick up on it. He never dwelt on it for long, merely a few seconds to throw him off of his train of thought. Long enough to distract him briefly- then he would jam the thought to the back of his mind, and forget about it for a few days, a week, even a month.

But it would always resurface.

He was about to start to brood on that subject, when teeth bit at his throat. He pulled back, looking down at Zexion, who was smirking at him with a positively impish expression. "I don't like being ignored," he said, smirking.

"I wasn't ignoring you," Lexaeus dropped his hand to the small of Zexion's back. "Shall I focus all of my attention on you?"

"Please do," Zexion said, in the way that "please" was not a plea at all, but an order.

Lexaeus chuckled and easily picked Zexion up, cradling him in his arms like a child. He moved off a little further from the camp, avoiding the spring where he had taken Marluxia, and found another seep, surrounded by glacial boulders and large hemlocks.

It was idyllic.

A single touch, and the rock was slightly yielding. Nothing like the clay that had trapped Marluxia, but no longer so hard it would bruise his slender lover.

Not that Zexion would probably complain...

Instead, the Schemer made a pleased sound as his back encountered the softer rock, and an even more pleased sound when Lexaeus settled his weight over him. "Much better," he said, reaching up to unzip Number Five's coat. "But it _could_ be even moreso."

"Even better?" Lexaeus allowed him to remove the coat, pulling away to shrug it off.

"Oh, yes," Zexion's eyes were half-closed, tongue flicking out over his lips. "Definitely."

Since no further hints were forthcoming, save for the hungry look in Zexion's eyes, Lexaeus figured he should completely undress. No one would interrupt here, plus it would please Zexion, which, in turn, would cause Zexion to please _him_.

It was delightful how these things worked.

Zexion sat up as Lexaeus dropped his pants, his expression absolutely devious. "Come back here," he murmured, reaching for him. "This rock is cold."

Leaning down over him, the larger man chuckled. "Of course," he said, leaning in to kiss him gently. _I live to serve._

He'd said it before- it wasn't necessarily true, but it made Zexion happy.

In moments, Zexion's own coat was undone and off, and his pants open. Lexaeus took a moment to simply admire him- he always did. Zexion was quite lovely- some might even call him beautiful. And with the muted green light of the hemlock grove spilling over his pale skin, which contrasted nicely with the lithic rock he lay on, Lexaeus _would_ call him beautiful.

"Come back here," Zexion repeated, reaching for him. "And you won't tease me this time..."

Lexaeus started to chuckle, large hands splaying across his hips. "I won't?" He bent his head, lips brushing across Zexion's chest. "I must have missed that when it first crossed my mind..."

"Ah." Zexion's eyes closed as Lexaeus' thumb moved close enough to brush over his stirring erection. "You did. Yes."

"Of course..." Lexaeus paused, realizing his error in the fact that he had no proper lubrication. "Hm."

Zexion's eyes half-opened, and he grabbed Lexaeus' hand. "Don't get up," he hissed, pulling his hand up. "Don't you dare."

Lexaeus let his own eyes half-close, looking at Zexion from under his lashes. "As you wish," he murmured, pressing two fingers to his lips. "Then you'll have to do some work..."

Zexion merely snorted, parting his lips without argument and allowing Lexaeus to push the fingers inside. The smaller man had a _very_ talented tongue- not surprising, considering his verbal skill. He shuddered as that tongue passed over his fingers in long sweeps.

It was so very tempting to pull his hand away, yank Zexion to his feet and force him to his knees before him. The mental image was delicious, the desire almost too strong.

He pulled his hand away quickly, pushing Zexion flat with his other hand. "Spread your legs," he said, voice even hoarser than usual. "And relax."

Licking his lips, Zexion settled himself back onto the rock, following the orders given. "Hurry up," he said, and Lexaeus knew it was so he could still feel in control of the situation, despite their positions. Zexion always had to have control, even when it was in Lexaeus' hands.

Fortunately, Lexaeus understood, and leaned into nuzzle the smaller man. "Of course," he murmured, pressing the spit-slick fingers into him without hesitation. He used to take this so slowly, so afraid of hurting the younger man, but Zexion always grew impatient, imagining that Lexaeus was patronizing him.

Sometimes Lexaeus figured Zexion was a bit of a masochist, enjoying the pain Lexaeus would cause him.

 _Why am I not surprised?_

When Zexion began to rock his hips up against Lexaeus' hand- always so impatient, Zexion was- he pulled his hand away and knelt between his spread thighs, pushing into him quickly before he had any chance to tense up.

He tensed up anyway, after Lexaeus was inside of him. He always did. It was a painful and delightful sensation for Lexaeus himself, feeling the tight muscles constrict and relax in an arrhythmic fashion around him. "Relax," he ground out, feeling himself already close to the edge.

Power did that to him. Power and the fact that anyone- _anyone_ \- would dare to threaten what was rightfully his. Lexaeus was a calm, steady fighter, with a nasty, hidden streak of possessiveness.

Sometimes, he wasn't even sure that Zexion knew about it. He was always tempted to keep it hidden, and usually succeeded. As Zexion relaxed around him finally, he closed his eyes and started to roll his hips slowly, trying to ensure that he drew this out at least a little.

Zexion's blunt nails flying up to bite into his back helped by distracting him slightly. "Don't tease me," he said, and Lexaeus was sure it was supposed to be a command, a growl, and not a whispered plea, as it was closer to.

"As you wish," Lexaeus said, and started to move faster, harder. It was, after all, what he wanted, too. "Zexion," he added, just to hear his name, just to say it, just to know exactly who it was he was with at the moment.

"Lexaeus," Zexion responded, eyes closing, body arching to meet his. Yes, this was better, this was _much_ better than Marluxia. Zexion was so much warmer, so much more responsive to him. And Marluxia had been tight, yes, but he hadn't known just how to clench his muscles _there_ and didn't know that Lexaeus enjoyed it when teeth nipped at his earlobe, and when nails raked down his back to dig, just slightly, into his buttocks.

Zexion knew all of this, because Zexion was the closest thing to perfect a Nobody could achieve.

"Lexaeus," Zexion moaned, unable to say more, leg hooking high around his waist. "Lexaeuss..."

"Yes," Lexaeus all but purred in his ear, shifting so that Zexion's weeping erection was trapped between them. "That's right."

With a sound almost like a snarl, Zexion twisted and bit down on Lexaeus' shoulder to stop from crying out as that slight touch sent his orgasm slamming into him. Lexaeus groaned, feeling his own release rising in him, his hands tightening on Zexion's hips to the point where they'd leave bruises.

Zexion shuddered around him, clinging tightly as Lexaeus spilled himself into him. "Oh, yes," he was mumbling. "Yes. Yes."

Lexaeus managed to keep himself from collapsing onto him, holding himself up on shaking arms. He made to pull away, but Zexion wrapped both legs and arms around him, pulling him close. "Stay," he demanded.

Lexaeus' lips twitched, and he pulled back only enough to settle comfortably to one side, then put his arms around Zexion. "As you wish," he murmured, because it was as close to "I love you" as a Nobody could get.


	6. Chapter 005 - Small Talk

Chapter: 005 - Small Talk  
Location: Dark Forest  
Characters: Larxene, Axel, Zexion, Lexaeus, Marluxia  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for some swearing.  
Summary: Little everyday disasters, political contemplations, amicable harassments and ruffled feathers getting slightly smoothed. 

**Chapter 005 : Dark Forest - Small Talk.**

* * *

Larxene tossed another pinecone on the fire, quite pleased with herself.  
It had taken less than half an hour of circular arguments, childish taunts and the occasional uncomfortable truth to send Vexen storming off into the forest for another of his fuming sulks.

She grinned.  
Without even his precious rank to cling to it was just too _easy_ to goad the stiff scientist into helpless fury. A juicy book or an unfortunate heartless to pick to pieces might have been preferable, but with few other distractions breaking what was already turning into monotonous routine you took what entertainment you could get.

Another pinecone landed neatly on top of the previous; rabbits and birds was one thing, but she'd be damned if her aim wasn't near perfect presented with an unmoving target.  
" You should be careful with those," Axel grinned from across the fire. " Too much resin and you'll have them exploding in your pretty face."  
She snorted.  
" If something fiery should 'accidentally' explode in my face I know just whose balls to roast for it, don't I?"  
The lanky man splayed a hand against his chest with a hurt look.  
" Oh, harsh. That's what you get for trying to be helpful."  
She smirked.  
" Touched by your concern, love."  
He grinned back.  
" I could touch you with more than that."  
She laughed, languidly considering accepting the transparent come-on. Why not? Entertainment came in many different shapes and sizes, and their fellow Nobodies seemed to have found themselves conveniently busy in the surrounding forest at the moment.

As though conjured up by the mere thought Zexion and Lexaeus came walking between the trees, and she sighed lightly. Damn their lousy timing. Though judging from Zexion's smug expression and ruffled hair _someone_ had gotten some...  
Axel followed her eyes and snorted under his breath.  
" There walks two Nobodies who did _not_ walk into the forest to spend a munny."

Emerging from the trees Marluxia walked past the two elders without sparing them a glance to take up residence at the very opposite side of the campsite.  
Larxene shrugged nonchalantly.  
" Oh, well. I'm not in an exhibitionistic mood today, firefly. I think you'll have to settle for a touching encounter with your hand."  
The redhead leaned back with a shrug, placing his hands behind his neck.  
" Fine. It's tighter than you anyway."  
The last pinecone vehemently hit the fire with enough force to send a shower of sparks all over the skinny man.

In accordance to all narrative laws of nature, it exploded.

Marluxia sat down, somewhat gingerly, on the fallen tree-trunk that served as the clearing's northern boundary. Studiously ignoring the two elders present and at least trying to tune out the muffled shrieks from the other neophytes by the fire he sank into almost meditative contemplation.  
The power-balance had shifted, that much was clear, but how much, and in whose favor was harder to tell. Certain venues were closed now, he knew, but a true tactician knew how to adapt, to turn a temporary defeat into future victory.

Lexaeus would pay, certainly, pay the full price for the pain and indignity he had caused. Him and his self-righteous little Schemer-snake both.  
It would have to wait, however, wait until the opportune moment presented itself; a moment of carelessness, a glimpse of vulnerability... No one was invincible, even the strongest had their weaknesses.  
He could wait. The time would come.

He unconsciously rubbed at his chest with a frown. It was… disconcerting how hard it was to keep up even hate, revulsion or resentment. All these things he wished to feel, but had to actively focus on to even remember he _ought_ to be feeling.  
Worse, he couldn't even truly be genuinely annoyed at the fact without that same effort.

Wanting to hate with every fiber of his non-being, yet simply not having the energy to sustain the emotion for long, constantly falling back into vague, washed-out discontentment...  
 _Is this how he felt, all this time?_  
He mentally kicked himself for getting side-tracked and concentrated again at the matters at hand.

There would be no seizure of power by force, at least not soon. How the imbeciles imagined anything productive would ever be accomplished if reckless clowns like Axel or Larxene were let into the chain of command he couldn't fathom. Not to mention that the elders had all the wilderness survival skills of crippled lab-rats.

Ignorant fools!

In time they were bound to come beg for his guidance, provided they survived that long. He could only hope they wouldn't drag everyone down with them once they took the inevitable fall.

Damn them!  
Damn them all. 

Hissing the foulest curses she'd picked up throughout the worlds Larxene furiously jumped around, batting at her smoldering coat with both hands. Red-hot sticky resin clung to the hem and smeared over her gloves and sleeves as she tried to flick at it, leaving the sleek black leather stained, torn and scorched.

Axel had had the foresight, or possibly more fire-resistant clothes, to keep the sparks at bay and had escaped the small outburst unharmed aside from a slightly soot-stained face. He grinned widely at her, a crescent of stark white teeth against soot-black skin.  
" Told you."  
He stood and stretched theatrically, then killed the remaining tongues of flame licking at her robes with a snap of his fingers, still smirking.  
She gave him a hard slap across the face for good measure.  
" Thanks."  
" Bitch!"  
As he sulkily rubbed his cheek she examined her clothes for damage control. The edges of hem and sleeves hung in tattered rags, stinking of smoke and burnt leather.  
" Well, damn."

Muttering Axel strode past her, still massaging his cheek pitifully. _Men_.  
" I'll go wash off. And if you shock the water I'll set your hair on fire in your sleep."  
She stuck her tongue out at his back, then returned her attention to her ruined coat. Out here it'd be impossible to get a replacement.  
Well, fuck.  
Maybe she could carve a few inches off of Vexen's coat when he slept to repair it with; it wasn't as though he really needed those ungainly swooshy robes reaching all the way down to the ground anyway.  
She sighed and let her tattered sleeve fall back by her side since there was nothing to do about it at the moment anyway.  
Kicking some wet leaves at the ill-mannered fire she looked around the clearing for less flammable entertainment.

Her eyes fell on Marluxia who sat perched with princely grace on his log, apparently lost in deep thought.  
It would seem he had sunk into one of his Moods; she couldn't remember seeing one this bad since she first met him, restless and spiteful, before Oblivion. No-one could suffer such refined melancholy as the Graceful Assassin; you could practically hear the weeping violins just looking at him.

Obviously the man was in need of some cheering up, and being the sympathetic and kind-hearted woman she was, she naturally had to help out.  
With a wicked grin she made her way around the muddy campsite to lean against the trunk beside him, teasingly blowing hot air in his ear.  
Abruptly torn from his reverie he gave her a sidelong glance, slowly arching an elegant eyebrow.  
" Interesting fashion statement. Have you been playing with fire again?"

She snorted and leaned back on her elbows against the tree-trunk beside him.  
" Exploding pinecone. I was aiming for Axel."  
A wan smile touched his lips.  
" An intriguing tale, I'm sure. Although one could argue perhaps fire would not be the very cleverest way of harassing a fire-elemental."  
She shrugged slightly.  
" It seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe next time I'll just use a kunai."  
" Hm."

There was a slightly distant look in his blue eyes, a troubled angle to his eyebrows. She studied him thoughtfully, then poked him irreverently in the side.  
" A munny for your thoughts."  
He focused on her again, as though slightly surprised to see her still standing there, then shook his head.  
" It's... nothing. Just many things to contemplate. Our grand plans didn't quite work out as intended."  
There was a slight wry self-irony to his smile now, and she liked it. Gloomy, brooding Marluxia was no fun. Charismatic Marluxia painting visions of carnage, conquest and power was much more to her liking. She discarded her ruined gloves and slid her fingers through his slightly damp hair, clawing affectionately at his scalp.

" You could say that. I seem to recall you promising I'd have half the elders on a leash by now. Yet here I am, rained-on, burnt and hungry - and in utter lack of enslaved enemies at that. You've got some making-up to do."  
She smiled sweetly, scratching slightly at the back of his neck. He closed his eyes, leaning into the touch.  
" I suppose a 'sorry' won't cut it..?"  
" Mm-mm," she agreed. " Not at all."  
He sighed slightly, but the frown was gone and his tense posture had changed to the more relaxed but careful attitude he usually sported when near her.

" You look quite awful," she pointed out. He made a face.  
" It's been a trying day."  
She grinned and nipped at his ear, massaging his shoulders.  
" Luckily I know just the thing to make you feel all better. And quite conveniently, it's just the thing to make me feel better, too."

He finally looked straight at her, a quite genuine smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  
" What an extraordinary coincidence indeed."  
She caught that quirky little smile in a deceivingly chaste kiss.  
" I know, isn't it?"  
She straightened and put a hand on her hip, tossing her head in the direction of the deserted forest downstream.

" You coming?"  
Casting a thoughtful glance over his shoulder at the other occupants of the glade he hesitated, an inscrutable expression flickering across his face. Then he stood, elegant as always, flicking rosy hair out of his face.  
" Well. Why not?"

From the forest, unreadable green eyes watched them leave.


	7. Chapter 006 - One Man, One Vote

Chapter: 006 - One Man, One Vote.  
Location: Dark Forest  
Characters: Vexen, Marluxia, Axel, Larxene, Lexaeus, Zexion  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, swearing  
Summary: The group has lingered for far too long, and decisions need to be made before it's too late. 

**Chapter 006 : Dark Forest - One Man, One Vote.**

* * *

The morning fog wound in long, misty ribbons though the trees and over the water as the first Nobody awoke. By the time the sun had risen enough to burn the last of it away, the clearing bustled with activity. As much as it ever did, at least.

There was a tense feeling in the air around the morning meal. For the first time since the first morning, there was no fish to be had. Larxene had gone down to the stream thrice since last evening, but had come back empty handed. They did their best to bake a few roots by the fire, but it was a stringy meal that didn't leave anyone remotely full. The mood around the fire hardly improved the situation; Lexaeus and Zexion sat silent, and neither Vexen nor Marluxia seemed inclined to socialize. Only Larxene's and Axel's nettlesome voices flew over the fire. Zexion chewed down the last piece of tough vegetable and sighed.

"We are running out of food here, aren't we? And firewood. If it wasn't for the fact that Axel can get _anything_ to burn."

The fire elemental in question flashed a smile at the comment, but then sadly eyed his empty leaf. "While I'd gladly burn down this entire forest for a meal I have to agree with the squirt. Larxene, have you lost your touch?"

"The only thing left to eat in there are slimy greens and mosquito larvae. You're welcome to them," the blonde sweetly hissed back. A rumble from Lexaeus silenced both of them for the moment.

"Zexion's right. The food is getting scarce, and..."

"Bah!" Vexen appeared to shake of his silence and glared at the larger Nobody. "The food is unimportant! What _is_ important is that we have lingered here in this accursed wood far too long!" For some reason, Marluxia gave him an almost envious gaze before hastily looking away.

Lexaeus returned the angry glare levelly, but nodded slowly. "Yes. Perhaps too long."

"By now, the Organization must know Oblivion have fallen." Larxene was rubbing her arms, perhaps unconsciously. "They must think we died..."

"Because we didn't return."

"Yes. And when they find us..."

" _If_ they find us." Marluxia's voice was firm, but he avoided meeting the Elders' eyes.

"You cursed fool! They will." Vexen had lapsed back into his sulky gloom. "How could we escape them?"

"They won't be looking for us! For all that we know, the mouse-king and the Keyblade Masters continued straight to the World that Never Was." Axel hotly replied. A collective shudder went through the group.

"What is the worst that could happen?" Larxene threw a glance at Vexen. "If we're unlucky, can't you just bring us back again?"

"Oh, of course." Irony dripped off of Vexen's voice. "If you find a way for Cards to work outside the Castle." The Oblivion Card he pulled from his pocket was bent and discolored, but you could still clearly see the Academic's likeness. "Out here it's _real_ , not an illusion of the mind."

"Oblivion was real."

"No. Just because it's not true doesn't mean it's not deadly. The Cards don't work here."

Zexion sighed. "As much as I hate to admit it, there's no going back. Xemnas would not appreciate that we abandoned our duties and loyalties in such a pivotal situation - and if we instead would meet Sora and his followers, the result for us would be even worse."

"I for one won't be sitting here waiting for them to find me!" Larxene snarled, eyes a bit wild.

"I assume it's too late to go back," Vexen said, looking defeated. "And it appears to me that we are actually in agreement over this. Imagine."

Silence had fallen over the clearing. The occupants had all lapsed into their own thoughts, and the air was charged with the feeling of things unsaid. Finally Lexaeus cleared his throat.  
"We can't go back. At least for the moment, we should… remain secluded."

"Which brings us back to the original discussion; we have no food left." Axel idly set fire to the leaves that had served as a makeshift plate and watched as the hot air made them rise above his head. Vexen hissed and ice encrusted the burning scraps, making them fall down into the fire. "We don't need another wildfire!"

"It's not as if I can't stop it..."

Larxene tittered, and leaned against Marluxia's arm. The Assassin had been unusually quiet though the discussion, and now shifted almost uncomfortably under her weight.

"Perhaps we ought to move." Zexion's face was unreadable beneath his hair, but Lexaeus nodded beside him.

"If we are going to move, we ought to leave this world all together!" Larxene interjected. "I'm tired of fish and rain and sleeping in the grass!"

"If we go to a civilized world, they will surely find us, you dimwit! Our only hope is to stay away from _everyone_."

"Vexen is right." Lexaeus and Zexion both nodded. "We have to stay hidden. Organization XIII..."

"Organization 'Seven', you mean! Come on! Larxene is right! We might as well hide in a city as hiding here!" Axel complained.

"Not in my _life_!-"

The sun had moved visibly over the sky before the quarrel had died out, and the participants sat silent and glaring at each other around the dying fire. It was a testament to their growing desperation that none had risen and stomped off in a rage. The silence filled the clearing, thick and sullen. Larxene was throwing pine cones into the fire again. One was thrown too had and bounced, hitting Vexen on the shin.

The Academic contented himself with a glare. "We are not getting anywhere with this. The fact is, Axel, that the Corridors of Darkness are far too dangerous. The Organization is sure to keep watch there. I for one wouldn't want Saïx catching a whiff of me… And don't forget Riku, he too can feel the scent of Darkness." He shivered.

Lexaeus frowned at the memory of the young man's strength. "Correct. We shall have to walk to find a new, better location."

Axel hissed. "Who says you have the right to decide that?! If you hadn't noticed, we have left the Organization- you are not the boss of me anymore!"

"Damn right!" Larxene added.

The three Elders, united for the moment by one of their few common points, instantly closed ranks. "It would be unwise for you to leave on your own, Axel. While we no longer stand under Xemnas' command, we need to remain a group. Now more than ever! See where discord left us in the Castle."

"If we are not together, we will only fall one by one." Vexen's face suggested that his conviction had more to do with not trusting any of the other within an inch of their existence, but the other two nodded in agreement.

Marluxia had been silent for most of the discussion, allowing Larxene and Axel to carry the argument with the Elders. It was common enough behavior for the Assassin, a familiar trait from their time in Castle Oblivion. The usual air of lordship and superiority was not the same, though, and he had spent most of the time staring into the fire. His voice surprised the company as he interrupted whatever scathing reply Larxene prepared to throw back.

"If you truly believe so, you should stand by your own words. This 'consensus' that you have touted before us so many times, Lexaeus... will you stand by it? Let us put this to the vote."

The two others Neophytes supported the suggestion vocally while the three Elders squirmed. Marluxia saw Zexion throw Lexaeus a dirty look and smirked inwardly, pleased with every little bother for Number Five. _He shall pay._ The question hung in the air like double-edged sword, capable of falling in any direction. Finally, Vexen snarled.

" _Fine._. We shall vote. But if we do, it's under the agreement that we are, indeed, a group, and that there will be no disagreement or disobedience after a decision has been made. We have had enough of treason." The glare he threw at Axel made his words clear to everyone around.

"I agree", Marluxia said, calm and collected, and Larxene and Axel fell into step easily enough. Despite it being his idea from the set out, Lexaeus and Zexion took the longest to give their assent; finally they both nodded slowly.

Larxene grinned broadly. "Dearie me, such an interesting situation! What would ever happen if we ended up in a tie?"

"I guess we'd just have to... I dunno, drift away on our own?" Axel's smile matched Larxene's. "Who'd stop us? It's not like we'd have "consensus". That's the beauty of democracy."

"So… what are we voting about, exactly?" Axel looked at the Elders like a hungry wolf eying a rabbit, sure of his upcoming victory. "Our next move? Because I'm tired of this damn forest."

"So that is your alternative. Leaving to another, more populated world." Zexion seemed to wish to hide his frustration by calmly arranging the procedure. "Any other suggestions?"

Lexaeus raised his hand. "I say we remain on this world, moving by foot to a new location."

Zexion looked around. "That is alternative number two. Anyone else?" The others around the circle shook their heads. "Then we will vote. I suggest hand raising as the easiest option."

"Oh dear, another question to vote about already?" Larxene tittered. "Hands sounds fine by me."

The ordered task ahead seemed to please Zexion, no matter how adverse he was to the idea of it. "Very well. The first alternative is leaving by Portal. Anyone in favour, please raise your hand."

Larxene's hand flew into the air, quickly followed by Axel's languid wave. They both turned and glared angrily at Marluxia, who still sat with his hands in his lap.

"What do you-!"

"Silence." Lexaeus rumbled, and Zexion's eyes twinkled with mirth underneath his hair. "We are not done with the voting yet." Vexen eyed the passive Assassin with unreadable eyes.

"All in favour of moving by foot, raise your hands." Four hands were lifted, and Larxene hissed in loathing at Marluxia. "Bastard! What kind of game are you playing!?"

Marluxia returned her glare with a steady gaze, not rising to the bait. "I find it more prudent for us to remain discrete at this point. Surely, in time, we will have more freedom of movement."

"You two timing turncoat!" The blonde seemed to be on the verge of planting a kunai where Marluxia really would feel it. "And you! How long have you planned this!?"

The Elders shrugged at her accusation, pleased with their unexpected victory. "We have no part in Number Eleven's behavior, I assure you." Vexen returned flatly. He refused still to look at Marluxia, staring instead right ahead over the fire. The other two Elders glanced quietly at Eleven, clearly trying to figure out his motives.

"I'm not putting up with this! I'm leaving!"

Larxene made to rise, but the suddenly towering shape of Number Five made her hesitate. "You agreed to abide by the decision, Larxene. Already breaking your word?" Something in the large man's eyes meant business, and she slowly sank back down.

"…Of course not." She gave him a cute little smile, fake all the way though. "Please, do not overreact on my behalf."

Snorts of disbelief came from all around the clearing, and she glared at her campmates. "Marluxia, you'll be sorry for this." Crossing her arms, she stuck her nose up in the air and ignored him studiously.

With Larxene evidently finished on the matter, Axel idly made the fire flame hotter. "Not that it is of pressing importance, in light of the recent developments… but what if mister pink here hadn't turned on his allies? Sooner or later, we'll be tied." Marluxia eyed him out of the corner of his eye, but Axel, too, ignored him.

"True." Zexion frowned. "Not an ideal situation."

"I suggest getting rid of Marluxia," Larxene snarled angrily. "Should make it so much easier."

Zexion made a tiny sound of amusement. "Sadly, we have just decided to remain together. If we start eliminating each other, no matter how pleasant that would be in some cases, we are as good as dead."

"Don't throw away a good idea, Zexion." Axel's eyes shone with malign humour. "Actually killing him might be a bit exaggerated, but really, why should Marluxia have any say in this group?"

"Hold your tongue!" The Assassin in question snapped back.

"Oh, no!" Larxene shone with the same venom as Axel. "Another vote, shall we? I propose that Marluxia only gets half a vote, so he doesn't get airs again. Looks like he needs it."

Marluxia growled, but the other three nodded with barely concealed smirks. "Aye, that sounds about right." Zexion made no attempt to hide the amusement in his voice. "And it appears we have five votes in favour of the notion and only one against. Or one half against, I should say."

"Unacceptable! You have no right!" Marluxia had drawn himself up to his full stature, eyes as enraged as a Nobody could ever be. "I have as much of a voice as everyone else-!"

"No you don't." Vexen interrupted him in short, clipped tones. "We just voted about it, as per your suggestion." He eyed the other as if seeing something incredibly distasteful. "And truthfully, we have had quite enough of your judgment, Marluxia. You brought us all down by conceited arrogance, atrociously inadequate leadership and pretentious ideas of grandeur. We will not repeat our mistake."

Marluxia's face froze for a moment, before he sputtered in rage, not even forming words in his fury. His whole body shaking with restrained wrath, he shot to his feet and marched off into the forest.

"Have a care in the wilderness, Marluxia, so you don't have any unfortunate accidents!" Zexion shouted after him, making Lexaeus smile.

"Will he leave, you think?" Axel asked of the others.

"No." Lexaeus added another log to the fire. "He most of all needs protection. If Xemnas ever caught him, he'd be worse off than dead. He'll come back."

"A pity," Vexen snorted.

"But his sudden departure makes planning so much easier. Now that a decision has been made, I see no reason for us to linger here."

"As much as it pains me, I agree with the Schemer," Axel drawled to Larxene, who nodded reluctantly. "Let's move."

Lexaeus was eyeing the sun, almost straight above. "Let us start tomorrow. We won't get anywhere far today."

"In what direction to move, then?" The thought remained unspoken around the circle that the member with the greatest knowledge of the wilderness was currently sulking somewhere out of sight.

"Rivers tend to attract people, don't they? I'm sure I've heard it somewhere." There was a certain lack of certainty in Vexen's voice.

"This ain't a river."

"But if we follow it, perhaps it will lead us to one."

"At least we will have water as long as we stay by it. I vote for Vexen's suggestion."

There was a murmur of concord from around the company. Axel shrugged. "One direction is as good as the other, as long as we get away from here."

"Then it is decided; we will leave tomorrow morning and follow the water downstream." Zexion's voice held a finality to it, and on its own accord the group broke up. Most of the day had been spent arguing around the fire, and now stomachs rumbled and bladders protested. Vexen stretched his back until he could hear the joints popping. As used as he was to spending hours bent over notes and books, nothing had prepared him for bush life.

Zexion joined him at the edge of the clearing. Lexaeus were quietly herding a grumbling Axel out to find wood, and Larxene had already disappeared among the trees – in the direction Marluxia had stormed off, the Academic could not help but notice. _I hope she strangles him, the little snake._. Still, the way Marluxia had been humiliated today sent a warm wave of pleasure through him. It was almost enough to make up for his aching legs and empty stomach. Almost.

The Schemer was silent as they searched the forest floor for something edible. Vexen knew him well enough to see the cogs of his mind turning and whirling behind his eyes. Always planning ahead, Zexion was, always trying to outsmart his surroundings. Vexen resented it, but wasn't the least bit surprised when the other spoke.

"An interesting morning." Vexen only grunted in reply.

"But I must say," the younger man went on, "that I am a bit curious as to your motives. Why propose such a thing, Vexen? You have hardly any reason to wish for the company of some people here-"

"All of the people here, you mean," Vexen cut in, irritated. "I have hardly any reason to wish for your company either, Number Six. You and Lexaeus both deserted me."

"Then why such a suggestion?" Zexion was unusually forward, Vexen reflected. Perhaps it was the hunger, or just impatience. Or maybe he was trying to goad Vexen into unplanned revelations. The notion struck a tiny spark of ire inside him, burning for a short moment before apathy snuffed it out.

"My motives are hardly a secret," He replied, drawing out his words in the way he did when scornful and nettled. "We must stay together. Wholly apart from the fact that we will surely perish if alone, the first one caught would betray the continued existence of all the rest. And the first to leave… more than one here would go back on his or her own accord, to try and buy mercy from the Superior by selling out the others."

For a moment, he concentrated on examining the undergrowth underneath a large tree for edibles, aware of the blue eyes drilling into his back. "And, of course, we will need each other. You, for alerting us to the presence of the creatures of Darkness, be they Heartless or Nobody. Lexaeus' strength and imposing physique will be useful, and Axel has been very convenient the last few days in keeping us warm. I hate to admit it, but Larxene has brought back more food than anyone else. But do not think for one single moment that I _want_ to be here with any of you." His eyes flashed at the last statement, and Zexion mumbled something vague.

"Of course not… still, I appreciate your logical and rational approach to the situation."

Vexen snorted. "It is necessary. There is no need for one to like it."

A small smile touched Number Six's lips. "I also notice that you didn't precise what Number Eleven brings to this group. Why not follow Larxene's suggestion and get your revenge on the traitor?"

Vexen's face turned deadly, lips compressed to a thin line of anger. At Zexion or Marluxia, it was hard to tell. "Because, Zexion… if Xemnas catches up with us, we need _something_ to placate him with.

"Oh." Zexion didn't elaborate on the subject, and they walked in silence for a while, both lost in his own thoughts. Vexen had rather continued the conversation. The talk of Xemnas brought the Organization to the front of his mind; capable, ruthless, unseen… and now, enemy rather than friend. The fact that the Elders had been allies since childhood only made their defection worse. He held no illusions of mercy from neither Xaldin nor Xigbar. Organization XIII… though only seven members remained, they were still one member more than their own ragged little team, and immensely more powerful. He shivered.

Zexion seemed to take it as an invitation for talk. "Marluxia seemed quite upset, didn't he?"

Vexen smiled at the unabashed glee in his voice. "I would rather say so. And I wouldn't want to be him when Larxene catches up with him."

"Neither would I. I wonder if Marluxia realized he stormed off into the Ladies' Forest?"


	8. Chapter 007 - You Only Live Thrice

Chapter: 007 - You Only Live Thrice  
Location: Dark Forest  
Characters: Vexen (Larxene, Lexaeus, Zexion, Marluxia, Axel)  
Rating/Warnings: PG, none  
Summary: The Chilly Academic analyzes the current situation and the past actions leading up to it as the group sets out on the bold trek downstream. 

**Chapter 007 : Dark Forest - You Only Live Thrice.**

* * *

It was difficult to decide which was worse, Vexen decided; the clammy cool mists of morning or sticky warmth of day once the sun stood high. Granted the morning-cold itself didn't bother him much, but mists and dew were _wet_ , unpleasant dampness seeping into clothes, boots and hair, cold in the entirely wrong way.  
That, and the moist made his hair curl slightly in a most ridiculous fashion, which Larxene had been all too happy to point out.

In all honesty it had to be said, though; with only one comb between them and no access to a proper bath his was not the only hair suffering. Already the extravagant hairstyles of some of the younger members looked decidedly muddled and drooping.  
Served them right, conceited bastards.

They had set out early, opting to look for food along the way, as their foraging the afternoon before had yielded just about nothing edible at all.  
There was a certain relief to the notion of leaving; if they _could_ somehow be tracked down through the Darkness, any enemies on their trail would have burst into this world practically on top of them. Even the fiercest of red ants wouldn't slow down Xemnas or the Keybearers much.  
Thus walking was technically a _good_ thing, putting several reassuring miles between them and the abandoned clearing. Or rather, it _would_ have been a good thing if the forest had had the decency of providing roads, or at least more or less flat terrain.

They'd already had to cross the stream twice to get past obstacles in their way; though admittedly the way Larxene had slipped on the slimy underwater rocks and splashed headlong into the water had been quite entertaining. Would have _been_ entertaining, at any rate, if they hadn't all been standing in the water at the time, and a pissed-off Larxene's instinctive reaction to shock and humiliation was, well shock.

The numbness had faded, eventually, and no-one had actually drowned. They'd probably needed that bit of rest anyway.  
He knew he certainly had.

He wanted to believe that he was at least as capable as anyone else to trek the wilderness, go boldly where none had gone before as literally as he had already done many times in the more figurative sense with his research. He was beginning to find out this was not quite the case.

Even at the very end of the line, where he'd soon ended up, the accursed undergrowth would claw and grab at his long robes and voluminous sleeves, entangling his legs and tripping him up.  
Climbing over massive fallen trunks, mossy and slippery, and braving boulders half again his height was also something he was quickly turning out to be exceptionally bad at.  
He would have appreciated the occasional offered helping hand from Lexaeus more if he hadn't had a creeping suspicion the man was laughing at him behind that patient blank expression.  
Bastards, the lot of them.

Besides, his boots chafed horribly.  
He was _used_ to walking, restlessly moving about, would rarely stand still for long even when working. The uneven forest floor turned out to be very different from smooth hard, plane floors, though, and he could feel new patches of skin getting blistered with every oddly angled step he took.  
The quiet clinking of the glass-phials in his pocket seemed to mock him; a quick gulp of potion would remove all the discomfort in a matter of seconds, and yet he knew better than even thinking about the temptation. The others' potential displeasure aside, traveling a hostile land like this was bound to end up causing worse harm than a few blisters soon enough and the potion-vials were painfully few, not to be wasted.

Miserable.  
Utterly miserable.

After several hours of walking the mood in the group had plummeted to entirely new depths, accessible only to Nobodies not only hungry but now also tired and sore.

Larxene alternately whined loudly and hissed angry curses, democratically sharing her discontentment, her hair and clothes still dripping slightly. Axel looked about ready to burn the forest to the ground and even Zexion seemed to take some spitefully malicious pleasure in letting go of the twigs and branches bent out of the way in such a manner that they'd snap back painfully at whomever was walking behind him; usually Vexen.  
Lexaeus wore his usual stoic calm like a shield, but the faintest hint of a frown proved even his patience was wearing thin with the others' grumbling.  
The only one remotely unaffected, or at least too aloof to complain was Marluxia, who seemed quite pleased at walking in the front, leading their way.  
Stupid twit probably hadn't realized he was only walking first partly because he could persuade the worst of the vegetational obstacles to let them through, but mostly in case their chosen path led them into unpleasant places like, say, the inside of a hungry bear.

Ah, yes.  
Marluxia.

Vexen had very, very carefully avoided that particular subject ever since the fall of Oblivion, not trusting himself not to pound the bastard full of 6-foot icicles in his sleep should he allow himself to dwell on the other's betrayal.  
The man had ordered his execution, after all.

The memory of fire still made him break out in a cold sweat, feeling all but nauseous as the mere recollection filled him with a stark dread more profound than any other hollow emotion he'd experienced since the loss of his heart.  
Axel had been all too happy to carry out his grisly orders, grinning with delight as the fire flared, and he knew he had survived only through pure luck. Without his cards it was one miraculous escape he would not be able to perform again.

Still, Axel was only the hitman, executor of someone else's dirty work. Dangerous, untrustworthy and unpredictable in himself, no doubt, but even so he had only been a tool, a pawn in another player's hand.

 _Marluxia._

He had _known_ Marluxia was dangerous, had _known_ what he was planning the moment the Keybearer drew near. He desperately wished to assure himself the betrayal had not been unexpected, that he had seen it coming, that he was not so naïve as to have underestimated the ambitious neophyte. Nor so blinded by their… too blinded to expect the blow.

But that was just the crux.

When it came right down to it, he _hadn't_ expected Marluxia to be quite so ready to order his death.  
And _that_ , more than the betrayal itself, even more than the fear of fire, was what made him lie awake every night since their escape, nails biting into his palms, shivering with barely restrained fury and bitter disappointment.  
He _had_ been blind and naïve. Thinking himself indispensable, relatively safe from the viper's schemes, that Marluxia would at least be reluctant if not incapable to order him obliterated.  
Of course the Assassin hadn't hesitated. Of _course_ he hadn't.

And he, Vexen, had been an utter fool for actually believing he would.

They found a thicket of ripe blackberries in the late afternoon. It was huge, the gnarled and viciously thorny vines filling the better part of a big clearing, heavy with large, juicy berries that gleamed like precious dark gems in the sun.  
They stopped, stunned with this unexpected boon in a forest that had so far been utterly unforgiving, then hurried into the clearing, tired feet forgotten, to indulge in ravenous, shameless gluttony.

As he ate, ridiculously pleased with food that wasn't only edible but delicious, he spotted utterly goofy wide grins on the juice-stained lips of the others, realized he was doing the same thing himself, didn't care.

The low afternoon sun was shining in a brilliantly blue sky, a mild breeze making the branches above sway lazily, painting the clearing with a patchwork of warm light and refreshing shade. The grass was green and soft, the sun-warm berries quite scrumptious, and for the first time in the week that had passed since their harried escape from the fallen Oblivion there was a general feeling of optimism in their mismatched little crew.

 _Perhaps this could actually work, after all_ , no-one said. _Perhaps, with a bit of luck and a bit of determination, we could actually get away with this_ , the others did not reply.

One by one they finished eating, collapsing onto the soft grass with muffled groans of satisfaction. No-one needed to suggest staying; for once the six Nobodies were in perfect, unspoken agreement.

The air was mild, their bellies full, the sighing of the wind in the trees hypnotically relaxing. There were little birds chirping melodiously in the bushes, and Larxene didn't even try to skewer them.

It was quite perfect.

Dragging himself over to a nice spot in the cool shade beneath a tree, Vexen sat down and let out a contented sigh.

He was vaguely aware of Marluxia trying to catch his eye and studiously looked away. He didn't need further thoughts of bitter betrayal tainting this unexpectedly pleasant moment.

But of course, once the thought presented itself he couldn't help but follow it, like picking at a scab, jabbing at a sore tooth.  
Treason and betrayal indeed.  
It wasn't as though his own hands were clean.

He tiredly closed his eyes and leaned back against the tree.  
Two masters he had betrayed now. Technically three, but he had never acknowledged Marluxia his master, never would.

He craved stability, thrived on routine; hardly the personification of a mutinous rebel, yet here he was, just one more traitor among others.

Master Ansem had been the hardest, the first hesitant step down a long dark road. He'd still had a genuine conscience then, heartfelt morals, not only intuitive concepts of right and wrong but the ability to give a damn. Only the knowledge that it was for a higher purpose had convinced him to turn against his master and mentor in the end.  
But turned on him he had.

 _In some twisted way, perhaps we deserve to be damned._

Xemnas and the Organization was another matter entirely.  
Unfeeling, clinically devoid of emotional loyalty he would not grieve his betrayal of an organization that had truthfully let him down first. He _would_ however grieve very passionately, he suspected, should the Organization ever catch up to hold them all responsible for their disastrous defeat.

And a disaster it was.

Loyalties shattered might not weigh too heavily on his mind, but more basic instincts of terror and mortal anguish very pressingly did.  
Not to mention that his life's work, his research, the blood, sweat and figurative tears of the past ten years was beyond his reach now. A decade's dedicated strife cast aside, leaving behind only a hollow ache as distressing as the one already resting in his heartless chest.  
What awe-inspiring discoveries resting just beyond his reach would now remain forever buried, what great breakthroughs and hard-won truths would be forever denied him?

What legacy could he leave now, what proof that he had ever existed?

He sagged against the tree, worn out from more than a long day of walking. Sometimes, just sometimes the lack of a heart was all but a blessing; he could _think_ the dejection, but it was distant, subdued, could not quite touch him.

Two masters betrayed, two deaths suffered to pay for the treachery. Two past lives irrevocably cast aside in trials of fire and darkness.

He had been certain the end had come when Even's heart had been ripped from his body all those years ago. Had thought so again only the week before, engulfed in that excruciating fire, his very being threatening to unravel.  
The split-second of utter nothingness before the forgotten card still carried after the battle with the keybearer automatically activated was something he never wished to experience again, ever.

Primitive superstition claimed a cat had nine lives.  
Just how many could a run-down, high-strung, notoriously short-tempered scientist hope for?  
Three was probably pushing it.

Purpose was all nice and good; a goal, a drive, the yearning to return to his research, possibly even extracting his vengeance on those deserving.  
But survival came first.

Staring at the setting sun without really seeing it he vowed once more to _live_.  
Whatever it took he would _not_ submit to the numbing cold of eternal nothingness again, no time soon.  
If it meant suffering the company of brutes, brats and conniving snakes for as long as it took to escape their enemies' long shadow, then so be it.

Closing his eyes again he only wished a certain snake's bitter betrayal against himself could have been as easily overcome and brushed aside as those uncomfortable past sins of his own.


	9. Chapter 008 - Savage Nature

Chapter: 008 - Savage Nature.  
Location: Dark Forest  
Characters: Larxene, Axel, Zexion, Lexaeus, Marluxia, Vexen  
Rating/Warnings: G, actually  
Summary: Larxene muses on best laid plans and how things don't always turn out the way you want them to. 

**Chapter 008 : Dark Forest - Savage Nature.**

* * *

"You know Larxene, you're starting to look like Vexen's little sister." Axel grinned and flicked one of Number Twelve's drooping bangs.

Larxene hissed, and Axel yanked his hand back with a yelp as electricity sparked between her fingers. "That is a _horrible_ insult, Axel!"

"Yes Axel, that _is_ a horrible insult." Vexen commented, passing them by on his way to the stream.

Axel gave her an artfully wounded look, sucking on his injured fingers. "What? You must admit, they are not as gravity-defying as they once were…"

She snorted and swept past him, stalking away over the rocky beach. Axel should be lucky she counted breakfast more important than teaching him a lesson. She tried not to limp too noticeably as she headed for the blackberry bushes; yesterday's exertions had left her with stiff joints and aching feet. Perhaps she had eaten a few berries too much as well, her stomach told her. Zexion stumbled down to the water beside her and she smirked openly at his pained movements

The berries were just as delicious as they had been yesterday. She greedily tore them off the branches, not caring that her hands stained blue from the juice. Right now, the loss of the gloves seemed less important. This was so much better than rubbery fish, burnt half to cinders over an open fire. Her bangs flopped down in her face and she brushed them behind her ears, irritated. She was so not starting to look like Vexen! The Elder's hair was hardly as neat as it once had been, either.

The sun had risen well up in the sky by the time they started out. No one had really wanted to. They had food here, and lots of it to boot, they were tired and sore. But no one had wanted to be the first to admit to such weaknesses, and so they pressed on, after stuffing themselves and every available container with blackberries. Not that they had a lot of those. All of them had been reluctant to put the sticky things in their pockets, foreseeing an awful mess. A few hanging cowls looked suspiciously bulgy, though. She filed the knowledge away for later, in case she got bored.

Just as they had yesterday, they did their best to hide their tracks before they left. Marluxia made the grass cover their footprints and sleeping places even as Axel burned the last of the fire to soot. That done, Lexaeus made the earth swallow the fire pit whole. As the stone rose to create a smooth surface, she caught sight of Marluxia. He looked pale, almost nauseous. Seemed she was not the only one who had eaten too many berries yesterday.

Her stiff joints protested at every step, but the warm sun and the food made the day at least bearable. Watching the others drag themselves along in obvious pain made it easier to bear anyways.

It was a rotten situation she had ended up in. The new sores on her feet were just another remainder of the fact. All her plans had failed horribly. Now she trudged through the snarled undergrowth on this awful world, when she should have ruled in the Organization!

Well, perhaps not ruled. The ideas of what to do once they had overthrown Xemnas were actually a bit hazy. She had always assumed Marluxia had plans for the throne of Number One, and she wasn't about to challenge him for it. All she had wanted was to be released from the shackles of boredom and hierarchy. All the Elders, they were so high and mighty, giving all the orders, making all the plans; _holding her back_ and she had been sick and tired of it.

In front of her, Vexen almost slipped as they descended down a muddy bank. Only a steady hand from Lexaeus kept him on his feet. The sight of the mud smeared all over the bottom of his coat made her smile, relishing in the fact that the tidy Elder soon would have clothes as ruined as hers.

Xemnas had always insisted their loss of hearts meant loss of emotion. The higher numbers had agreed, slavishly tried to restrict the show of feelings in themselves. No fun, no games, no enjoyment.

As if she couldn't decide that for herself. The glee she felt at the other's misfortune was real enough – he deserved it! – and Xemnas could rant all he wanted against it.

The first thing she had felt as a Nobody was the power crackling though her. It was all hers, this power, and she wanted to use it! To enjoy it, feel her element flow though her, do whatever she wanted just because she wanted it! Not be controlled by a bunch of slow old men always wanting to do things the slow, sure way. Cowards. They had never seen her potential. All they had seen was Number Twelve, second to last in the Organization.

By their own volition, her eyes sought out Marluxia, leading the way down the hill. They had found each other in the dissatisfaction, their urge for recognition. And it had been such a chance. Alone in Oblivion, away from the watching eyes of Number One and the more formidable Elders, with Naminé in their hands…

She had been such a sweet, easily broken little thing. Larxene had quite liked her, with her big blue eyes and whispery little voice. It was hard to believe she had the guts to turn against Marluxia in the end.

Or maybe not. Naminé and the Keyblade bearer had felt very much the same to her, innocent, naïve, _caring_. Easy to hurt. She could play them like fine instruments, she knew she could. And yet that blue eyed boy had… She shook her head. Better not to think of the moment of pure shock and utter nothingness before her being was pulled back from the brink where the boy's weapon had sent her.

They had all dearly underestimated their prey, and they had paid the price for it. And they would pay even more heavily if found by either enemy or ally. It was that grim thought that kept her moving, grinding her teeth every time she slipped on the uneven ground.

The stream had eagerly jumped down its narrow channel as they descended the slopes, but now it flowed more slowly, a clam and broad reach though the trees. Indistinct shapes moved under the surface. She lifted her hand to fix supper, then thought the better of it. She wanted to be alone for a bit, let her guard down for a moment. They had ground to a halt by the edge of the water, dusk and slippery ground making walking hazardous. This spot was dry. It would do.

"I'll find dinner," she announced, flashing her eyes at anyone daring to oppose her. "And the Ladies' Forest is _that_ way tonight, so don't even think about it."

Sadly, none seemed about to challenge her for it. They others had more or less collapsed on the ground, Vexen complaining loudly over sore feet and Lexaeus hovering over Zexion. The Schemer waved him off, evidently not wanting that kind off attention in public. Axel's lips were blue with berry juice. The bastard didn't even have the decency to share.

It was almost too dark to find her way, but she relished this small amount of freedom. She had seen the jealous gazes of Marluxia and Axel as she slipped off into the trees whenever she wanted. The Elders would never allow either of those two to do the same. Axel was a snake, had proven his untrustworthiness more than once, and Marluxia… well, she understood why they wanted to keep their eyes on him.

Oh, well. Better them than her. At least now, there was someone below her on the ladder. She still could not stand those stuffy Elders, but the situation forced them to at least listen when she spoke. Bringing home the occasional fish only made them listen so much better. And she rather liked standing over Axel and Marluxia. It gave her an edge. Nothing wrong with letting them both eat some humility for the moment.

She had followed the river, and now stuck her hand down into the water. Blue light sizzled over the surface for a fraction of a moment. Soon, pale shapes floated to the surface. She gathered them in before they had floated off downstream. Another small thing that would ensure her freedom of movement.

She stuck her hand inside her coat and found the small leaf package of berries. They seemed to have had survived reasonably well. Filling her mouth with the sweet morsels, she strolled back to the camp.


	10. Chapter 009 - Distance

Chapter: 009 - Distance  
Location: Dark Forest  
Characters: Zexion (Lexaeus, Axel, Vexen, Marluxia, Larxene)  
Ratings/Warnings: PG/None  
Summary: Zexion's thoughts on their ill-fated Oblivion venture, and the current miserable trek through the forest. 

**Chapter 009: Dark Forest- Distance**

Zexion had told himself from the start it would be a miserable, exhausting trek. He honestly wished he'd forced himself to _believe_ it a little more.

This slogging about in the often-treacherous woods was positively dismal; if he didn't know the risks of using a portal of darkness, he'd simply teleport to somewhere drier. And warmer. And much, much more comfortable.

 _Ugh._ If he'd known how terrible this would be, he _might_ have put his two cents in with the others. But… well. Some existence was better than none, he supposed, and none was just what they were going to get when ( _if_ , if, he had to remember that) the Organization found them.

He glanced at Lexaeus' broad back, and briefly debated asking him to carry him. Certainly, it would be peanuts for Lexaeus to give him a piggy-back ride through this place.

…but, no, the neophytes would _talk_ , then, even more than they were talking now.

Pride before comfort, he supposed.

But still. It would be better.

Looking back down, lest he miss his footing, slip on the clay-covered stones and go tumbling headlong into the brook, he considered his lot in "life", as it were.

 _I do not want to be alone again._

That was a sobering realization. Ienzo- oh, it had been so long ago- was a loner, one who studied away from the other Apprentices, more often than not, and was never truly a part of their close fellowship. He had considered them his friends, yes, as much as Ienzo had ever befriended anyone.

Now, with that taste of being so _alone_ , of having the only ones around you ones that desperately wanted you out of the picture, he knew he did not want that again. Call it survival instinct, call it something more complicated than that, but he did not want to lose his companions once again.

He had shown no remorse over sending Lexaeus to his death. He had felt no remorse for it. He had not mentioned it to his bedmate. Nor had the larger man brought it up.

It hung between them still, he knew, and he could nearly see it. It felt like a wall, sometimes, when the silence between them wasn't as comfortable as it once had been; when Lexaeus was just a little cold, just a little distant.

He told himself Lexaeus would have done the same to him. They were Nobodies. It had been the best thing to do.

But he had sent Lexaeus to his death.

And now… now it bothered him. It rankled. It ate at the back of his mind. It was the itch he couldn't scratch, the puzzle he couldn't unravel.

He was _not_ supposed to care.

…so why did he? Did he even? What was going _on_?

He slipped, turning his ankle between the rocks and started to topple. He twisted himself, pulling so his foot was no longer trapped between the rocks as he fell; he didn't need a broken ankle or foot in this wilderness. Gritting his teeth, he could do nothing but fall, and think how very much this was probably going to hurt if he hit the rocks sticking out of the water.

A hand fisted itself in his shirt and hauled him upright. He stared up at Lexaeus, who simply, impassively returned the stare. The line ground to a halt, Marluxia continuing on twenty feet or so before realizing no one was following him.

"What's the hold up?" Larxene sniped, wiping mud from her pants leg and flinging it aside. "Can't wait to stare into each others' eyes until tonight?"

Zexion shot her a venomous glare; the moment shattered and Lexaeus finished straightening him, letting go. "Are you hurt?" he asked, and his tone had just that _touch_ of distance that Zexion had come to hate.

"No, nothing I can't deal with," he said, as calmly and as formally as he could manage. "I'll be fine."

"You should walk in front of me," Lexaeus motioned for him to do so. "That way, I will catch you, should you fall."

Zexion blinked and looked at his face again, searching, then he nodded slightly. "Thank you," he said, and he found that he meant it.

He took the position directly behind Marluxia, and tested his ankle- sore, but definitely not sprained or even strained. With a nod, he started off after the Assassin, pleased to feel Lexaeus' presence at his back, rather than Axel's.

Axel. Now, there was food for thought. Zexion would have preferred to have the redhead up front, where he could keep an eye on him.

 _That bastard_ certainly dominated his thoughts about Axel, along with _backstabbing traitor_ and _murderer_.

Zexion had a reason to hate Axel. Unbidden, his hand crept up to his throat, before he forced it down. He hoped Lexaeus' body hid his from Axel's view, but there was no chance it did one-hundred percent.

And he did _not_ want to let the traitor know how he affected him.

He did not want to be _afraid_ of Axel. But what other choice did he have? He was constantly on guard around him, because he had betrayed them all once- who'd say he wouldn't do it again?

Zexion's mind could only paint the picture of Axel, returning to The World That Never Was, claiming how it had been such a _challenge_ to hunt them all down and destroy them one by one, but oh, he had succeeded in destroying the "traitors" to Xemnas and now had returned, so faithfully, to his Superior.

The mere thought made his gut clench in anger (and fear, but he refused to admit that- Nobodies did not feel fear. They technically didn't feel anger either, but that was right out, or Saix wouldn't exist, period). They were not the traitors! They had never been the traitors! Axel had double-crossed them, double-crossed them all!

His throat closed up, and he stumbled again before recovering on his own. He heard Lexaeus make a quiet sound behind him, and waved him off. He didn't need that. He couldn't face the man at the moment. Couldn't turn around and see Axel behind him somewhere.

At least, there was no Riku Replica here.

Powers, he still wanted to strangle Vexen for that idea.

He swallowed hard, and shook his head. He had to get himself under control, and soon. He couldn't lean on Lexaeus for support, not openly. That would be used against him.

Perhaps even by Lexaeus.

 _I need to speak to him. Alone. Truly alone._

Digging his nails into the palms of his hands helped, the small pain making it easier to focus, easier to stand upright and take himself in hand.

He would move along this river… creek… thing, whatever it was, and stay with the group.

For survival's sake.

For as lost as he was with them… without them, he was utterly doomed.


	11. Chapter 010 - Quenched

Chapter: 010 - Quenched  
Location: Dark Forest  
Characters: Axel, Vexen, Lexaeus, Larxene, Zexion, Marluxia  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for coarse language. This _is_ Axel's chapter, after all.  
Summary: Axel has a lot on his mind, even as the Renegades encounter a bit of a big, smelly problem... 

**Chapter 010 : Dark Forest - Quenched.**

* * *

" Okay. Well. So. Whose bright idea was going downstream again?"  
Axel put a hand on his hip and gave the unusually quiet group around him an accusing glare.  
" It was a perfectly logical course of action," Vexen mumbled vaguely. " We all agreed. Following the stream in hopes of locating a river, and along with it perhaps signs of civilization…"  
" Hate to disappoint you, but _that_ ," the redhead sneered, making a grand sweeping gesture at the soggy marshes spreading out before them, " ain't no river."

They had already walked for several hours, inwardly blaming the increasingly soggy ground on that damned persistent rain the night before. As the trees ahead began thinning out and dim sunlight hinted at open spaces up ahead they'd hoped for some well-deserved easy walking across nice, flat meadows, maybe even finding a fish-filled lake or that civilization-loused river Vexen was going on about.

Instead, they now found themselves standing on a small, comparatively dry peninsula of slightly higher ground protruding into a vast swamp stretching away into the distance on both sides. Blurred by the sticky and above all _smelly_ mists rising from the stale water, silhouettes of distant treetops could be made out far away on the other side. They were quite small.

Larxene struggled to free her heeled boot from the organic muck after stepping too close to the dark water; it resisted, then squelched loose. The mud slowly closed over the deep footprint with a smug _gloop_.  
" Well, this stinks!" she exclaimed, trying to rub the smelly dirt off against the grass.  
" You honestly have no _idea_ , " Zexion croaked, one sleeve pressed to his nose.

Axel crossed his arms.  
" Okay, that's it, then. It was fun while it lasted, or well, no, not really. But that thing is huge, we can't walk around, and we can't damn well walk across. Only way we _can_ walk is back where we came from, and we don't want that. So we gave it a try, all nice and dandy, but now it's time to _move on_ , right?"  
Marluxia's eyes narrowed.  
" You're suggesting using corridors of darkness?"  
Axel spread his hands.  
" Not suggesting. It's the only thing we _can_ do. Or do you want to crawl through there with rotten slime to the waist? You won't smell like a flower-girl anymore, though, I'll give you that."  
Marluxia gave him a cold, dangerous scowl.  
" Not to the waist," Lexaeus thoughtfully but matter-of-factly pointed out. " I can feel the ground only a few inches down. If we tread carefully we could probably walk across without even getting water in our boots."

Axel stared at him.  
" You've got to be joking."  
" Yes, _certainly_ , Lexaeus," Vexen agreed, a look of prissy dismay on his narrow, womanly face. " You can't seriously refer to that sludge as 'water'! There's likely more tadpoles and rotten weeds in it than there are oxygen atoms."  
" I _meant_ the walking!" Axel exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation.  
" Look, I know we agreed to keep walking, but honestly people, enough's enough you know? This is getting ridiculous, really, the whole playing boyscouts, cloak-and-dagger sneaking through the bushes deal. That stopped being fun when you were, what, seven?"

They all stared at him.  
He took a deep breath.

" It's… Look, this is all just stupid. We don't have to do this crap anymore. They think we're all dead, we've stayed nice and inconspicuous for more than a week – do you _really_ think the Organization or Keyblade bearers will stand waiting in the Darkness for us if we open one lousy little corridor?"  
" Possibly not, " Lexaeus conceded. " _Probably_ not."  
" Right!" Axel beamed. Just for once it seemed the others were actually _listening_.  
" But then," the large warrior continued, " They might. A misstep in the marshes may get your feet wet. But a miscalculation about the Darkness will get you killed."

There was a tense silence as this was considered at quite some length.

" We need to move on," Zexion muttered, breathing through his mouth.  
" I don't want to go in there!" Larxene whined, voice pitched to be as annoyingly jarring as possible.  
Vexen shuddered as bubbles released from unseen and preferably unknown processes in the depths broke the surface.  
" I suppose it would be counter-productive to stop now," he admitted, although his voice was decidedly strangled. "Lexaeus is right. A single mistake can bring us down. It has before."

Axel looked around in disbelief.

" No. You know what _would_ bring us down? Fucking quicksand. People sink and _die_ in these places! I don't think even Nobodies can breathe mud, can they, Mr. Science? Didn't think so. You can all go drown yourselves for all I care, but I'm outta here."

Vexen gave him a hateful tight-lipped smirk.

" What's the matter, Eight? Afraid to get wet?"  
" I dunno. Are you afraid to get burned?"

It wasn't even a proper threat, just a childish retort, but Vexen went dead pale and stumbled back, hand automatically raised to summon ice or his shield or possibly both in case of an attack.  
 _Guess that's a yes, then. Heh. Good to know._

" Enough!"  
Lexaeus' voice was the thunder of mountains crashing together. He gave fire-wielder and ice-wielder alike a hard look.  
" There will be no fighting amongst ourselves. All our lives depend on it."

He looked at the others.  
" We should keep moving. Across these wetlands or through the Darkness. We all voted and agreed to move on foot until it is safe to leave. It's not safe yet, and so I suggest we keep walking. Any objections?"

" I don't want to. Will you carry me if I get tired, Lexie..?" Larxene protested with her most innocent little girl's voice. Axel and Marluxia snorted in unison, Zexion gave the Nymph a murderous glare.  
Lexaeus met the mocking plea in the large blue-green eyes with his usual deadpan expression.  
" If you have enough of your bones broken that we run out of potions, then yes."  
Larxene tittered nervously and quickly danced half a step back.  
" Ahaha. I'm sure that won't be necessary. Just checking. Thanks all the same."  
She blew him a kiss, still smiling just like the innocent little girl she was not. The Silent Hero pointedly ignored her.  
" Anyone else?"  
Marluxia gave the stinking water a look of utter loathing, but kept quiet.

Axel shrugged and kicked at a soggy tuft of grass.  
" I still say you're all idiots. Seems no-one wants to listen to me, though, so fine. Let's all go drown in the slime and get it over and done with."

The good news was that Lexaeus had been right; the gooey water only reached halfway up their boots, and even the mud beneath carried their weight without sucking anyone down to a literally sticky end. The _bad_ news, of course, was that Lexaeus had been right.  
It _was_ possible to cross the unpleasant wetlands on foot, and so there would be no leaving this disgusting world soon.

It was really some rotten luck that one of the most fussily careful people in the whole group was also the physically most superior, Axel sulkily thought to himself. Even Marluxia, that arrogant sod, seemed reluctant to stand up to Lexaeus, and so they _all_ had to do everything the slowest, safest and most tedious way imaginable.  
Like, say, trudging through stinking mud when they _could_ have jumped someplace nice and civilized, preferably sunny and with an abundance of food, drink and easy girls. Or boys. Or Roxas.

He sighed bitterly.

He should have been back in Never Was over a week ago, mission accomplished, finally able to see his little favourite partner again. _Should_ have.  
He'd carried out his orders to the letter, after all. Not a single traitor remained in Castle Oblivion, and some of the uncertain cases had quite conveniently doomed themselves; Larxene pissing off Sora one time too many, Lexaeus going up against that angry, hurting Riku-kid and Vexen messing up his little experiment and then trying to sell out Roxas to the good-guys ( _I still need to have a nice long talk to you about that, old man_ ).

If you just looked hard enough, you'd find treason _everywhere_. It could get an honest man down, it really could.  
Good thing he wasn't one.

He'd gotten a bit carried away at the end, perhaps, it probably hadn't been _really_ necessary to sic the Replica on the intolerable little bookworm, but by then everyone else had gone down, no troublesome witnesses remained, the bastard was almost dead after his encounter with Riku anyway and who could really, _really_ expect a howling wildfire to hold back once the glorious destruction had begun?

He'd carried out his orders nicely, rooted out every single traitor he'd been sent to deal with, and he'd been more than ready to go back, at last, to Never Was and the one single likeable Nobody in existence. Non-existence. Whatever.

And then there'd been that very, very heavy hand on his shoulder, and he'd turned in shock to find a towering and very much alive Lexaeus asking just where Zexion had gone and that had only been the _start_ of his troubles.

He almost slipped on something horrid and unseen in the dark, opaque water and wished for the thousandth time in an hour he could burn something to vent some frustration. The stinking fumes all around seemed just a tad too flammable for comfort, though; while he occasionally, or admittedly even quite often wished for a chance to burn his intolerable companions to a crisp, accidentally blowing up the entire swamp was probably a very bad idea.

It was slow going, wading though deep mud and snaring rotted weeds. Lost in thought Axel almost walked into Marluxia when Lexaeus suddenly stopped short up ahead.  
" What's the hold-up?" came the plaintive voice of Vexen, who had spent the past hour or two muttering pitifully about his tired, blistered feet and ruined coat.

Lexaeus seemingly ignored him, his gaze sweeping over the area up ahead, a stretch of marshland every bit as horrible as what they'd walked through all afternoon.  
" Is something the matter?" Marluxia asked impatiently, splashing up ahead to have a look for himself.  
Lexaeus gave a small shrug, but looked quite annoyed.  
" It gets deeper up ahead. We have to go back and find a way around."  
Now that he mentioned it the land ahead _did_ seem to have a more watery quality, no soggy tufts of grass or dying bushes.

Axel gave a heartfelt groan.  
" Go back? This way we could be stuck out here forever! I thought you knew where we were going!"  
Larxene looked furious and stomped down her foot with a splash.  
" I _hate_ this! Hate it! I want to get out of here _now_!"  
A strange, wide-eyed look suddenly crossed her face and she raised her arms as though to regain her balance.  
" My foot! I'm stuck!"  
Her expression turned somewhat wild and her voice cracked, shrill with dawning panic.  
" I'm stuck! Get me out!"  
Never before had the petty crew rushed so gallantly to the help of a lady; the memory of what had happened when she fell into the stream was still painfully fresh and no one in their sane mind wants a thunder-elemental to panic while standing to their own knees in water.

" Here, Larxene, give me your hand!"  
" Keep calm, Twelve, we'll get you out, just keep calm!"  
" Don't pull on it too hard or fast, that'll only create a vacuum and make it stick harder."  
" Stick! Maybe if we had a stick we could pry her loose? Marluxia, can you make a stick?"  
With a sigh and an air of infinite patience Lexaeus nudged the desperately helpful crowd aside, grabbed the petite woman under her arms and lifted her until her feet dangled a few inches over the surface of the muddy water, then turned and put her down on a patch of relatively solid ground.  
" And this is why I said to tread carefully," he declared. " Let us move on. We don't want to spend the night out here."  
" Thank you, Lex," Larxene dutifully mumbled with what could have passed for genuinely cowed gratitude if you hadn't known her for the callous little sadistic bitch that she was.

Careful to walk softly, they moved on.

The sun was depressingly low on the horizon when they finally found a way around the deep watery pits at the heart of the marshlands, the warm light making sky and water alike glow with inner fire, although possibly fire had never been quite so squelchy.

" We'll not make it to the other side before sundown, will we?"  
Axel's voice was flat as he grimly trudged on. His legs ached with the strain of struggling against mud and water with every step; there'd been no chance to sit down and rest since they entered the wetlands.  
" No. Probably not."  
Marluxia was still walking in front of him and the dainty Assassin's voice was as hollow as his own. With his robes spattered with mud to the waist and his faggoty pink hair reduced to a lanky mess he looked nowhere near lordly anymore, although he still certainly acted it.  
He'd quite looked forward to killing the man, finally setting those silly petals ablaze, wiping the smug expression from his face, glimpsing true fear in those haughty blue eyes before the end. But Sora had shown up, and he'd had to count on the boy to do the job instead.  
Presumably he had.

And then Vexen, _Vexen_ of all people had gone and _revived_ the son of a bitch.  
Why was a mystery, it was no secret gentlemen Four and Eleven hated each other with a passion. Then again, Vexen had brought back Larxene as well, and if there was any one Nobody the scientist loathed even more than Marluxia, it was the Savage Nymph.  
Really, what was the _point_ of executing all those traitors if some stupid old man stubbornly brought them back again?

Something he wouldn't be able to do again, if what he'd said during their first days in the forest could be trusted. Something to do with the cards; slippery bastard must have had an escape-route programmed through the cards somehow. And outside Oblivion, cards wouldn't work. And without cards, no unexpected second chances.  
Good to know. Just in case.

He hadn't _wanted_ to be dragged along on this fool's endeavour. All he'd wanted was to go back to the Castle That Never Was, report his job done and get on with his life. Non-life. _Whatever_.

And he couldn't damn well go back _now_.  
 _No, sir, sorry, sir, I killed off all the traitors as per your orders, sir, but they woke up and ran away_ , didn't sound any good at all.  
He could lie, of course, he was really very skilled at that. But if the idiots ever _should_ get themselves caught, he'd be in deep-.. well, something even _more_ unpleasant than rotting vegetation and mud, that much was clear.

So at least for now he couldn't go back any more than the rest of them. Not through any fault of his own, really, but nevertheless...

The others' vast distrust against him was no secret, but he _had_ made sure to make himself useful. Maybe there'd come a time when they all let their guard down enough for him to...  
 _No, sir, sorry, sir, they tried to run, sir, but I managed to track them down in the end, sir. Can I have my Roxas now?_  
Maybe.

Then again, who knew? Maybe they actually _could_ find a way to escape the wrath of the Organization and hide away for good. Hell, they had three of the Organization's most ingenious scientists on their team, maybe they'd even device a way to get their hearts back and all that.  
 _Say, Roxas, how'd you like to come stay with me? Someplace a bit more lively than Never Was, maybe, you know, get your heart back without involving Kingdom Hearts or Sor-_... scratch that, just getting the kid a heart of his own should be possible, right?  
Maybe.  
Clever Vexen could probably think of something, crafty man that he was. He'd only need the right... motivation.  
 _Are you afraid to get burned?_

Yeah.  
For now there wasn't much he could do but go with the flow, tag along and see how things'd play out.  
 _Heh, slow, safe and tedious. Just like Zexion and Lexaeus._

The forest finally swallowed the sinking sun and suddenly the misty marshes were very dark indeed. They all slowed down, then stopped.  
" Very well. Now what?"  
He could barely make out Zexion's silhouette in the gloom, a smaller form next to the large shape that was Lexaeus.

" If we keep walking in the dark we'll all break our legs or drown," he helpfully supplied.  
" We can't make camp _here_."  
Marluxia's petulant voice sounded quite horrified at the prospect of resting in the muddy water. Man had a point, it _would_ be a horrible thing to have to do.

" Everyone, stand back."  
Lexaeus' steady low rumble of a voice.  
Axel obediently skipped back; after Larxene's little misfortune earlier they'd all learned it paid to listen to the Silent Hero's advice while on unsteady ground.

The ground shook, mud and water boiling and splashing wildly for a few moments. Just as he was sure he'd lose his footing the rumbling died down and the water calmed.

" That will have to do for tonight. Follow my voice. There is dry ground here."

He squinted into the gloom and very carefully walked forward, following the sound of the others' squelching footsteps, inwardly cursing the swamp-gas and his inability to use fire. Suddenly and not entirely painlessly his toes bumped against solid rock. A small island of stone rose from the water, barely large enough for the six of them to lie down.

He patted the hard and comparatively clean and dry surface in disbelief.

" You could do this all along? Why didn't you just build us a bridge to the other side!"  
" Why didn't you heat the place dry? Or ask Vexen to freeze a way across? There's nothing to work with here, and we are not at our strongest. Take it or leave it."  
Funny how Lexaeus' voice sounded so much more harsh and dangerous in the dark. Or maybe he was just really annoyed, his solid patience wearing thin at last.

" No, no, this is fine. Really fine. Good thinking," he quickly amended. He laid down, felt someone else squirm slightly out of the way beside him; in the dark it could be anyone.

Silence fell, aside from the sound of sleepily croaking frogs and the occasional flatulent bubble breaking the surface.

He rested his head on his arms and stared up at a sky for once not hidden by branches and foliage. The mists blurred their light, but he could see stars up there, distant little pinpoints of light, beacons of other worlds, and suddenly he felt quite small and exposed.

There were no stars in the sky of Never Was.  
The world of the Organization was too far hidden in the Darkness to even glimpse the lights of other worlds.

 _Hey Roxas, wanna come stargazing with me? There are so many worlds out there. We can find one all our own!  
I'll bring the ice-cream?_

Yeah.  
Yeah, that'd work.

Axel closed his eyes and slept.


	12. Chapter 011 - Mad World

Chapter: 011- Mad World  
Location: Dark Forest  
Characters: Lexaeus (Zexion, Axel, Vexen, Marluxia, Larxene)  
Ratings/Warnings: PG-13/Some violence  
Summary: Lexaeus leads, but not without consequences and introspection. 

**Chapter 011: Dark Forest- Mad World**

Lexaeus did not sleep much.

He rarely did, anyway- even as Elaeus, he had slept very little, devoting much of his time to research. As Lexaeus, sleep had seemed… useless, impractical, time better spent doing something would accomplish his goals.

Besides, he enjoyed watching the sunrise. Zexion stirred at his side- Ienzo had always slept late, always, and Zexion had enjoyed sleep every bit as much as his Somebody had, which meant Lexaeus was _always_ the one to make breakfast- and slowly sat up with a groan.

"I don't like sleeping on the bare rock," he muttered, putting a hand to his back.

"It won't be for long," Lexaeus assured him, looking out over the swamp. There was a dark line on the horizon that might be trees… or it might be clouds, mountains, any number of things.

If it was another frontal system, they were in trouble. Any more rain might flood this entire place. The ground was saturated as it was, clay soil and peat.

They had to move, just in case.

He stood slowly, stretching and popping his joints, making Vexen wince as he, too, sat up.

"Do we have to go now?" Larxene pulled her knees to her chest, staring out at the vast expanse of mud and slimy water. "…can't we stay here for a day? Rest?"

"No," Lexaeus turned away. "We move, and we move now. Everyone up."

In truth, he didn't like being a leader and making the decisions; he did it because he had to, because no one else could lead through the swamp. The others needed to be told what to do, and this was the only way to survive.

And Lexaeus was, apparently, very good at survival.

 _Heh. Not as good as Vexen._

He took the first few, cautious steps off of the rock island, glancing back over his shoulder. Zexion was close behind, the others looking reluctant to leave their tiny safe haven.

With a frown of annoyance, Lexaeus sank the island. Larxene yelped, quickly latching onto the first available body, which happened to be Marluxia. Their former Lord didn't look overly pleased, no doubt afraid of a shock.

"Could've given us some warning, you asshole!" Axel snapped, swaying a little as he found his footing.

"When I say move, I mean it," Lexaeus said, tone mild, as if he'd done nothing more than shake them awake. Turning, he started to slog his way to the west, sending out tendrils of awareness ahead of him, as the sun fully rose about the horizon.

In the end, it was doubly fortunate that Lexaeus was leading them. The treeline, signifying the end of the swamp, had come fully into view, lending them all some real hope and extra energy.

And then Lexaeus had run headlong into the moose.

He hadn't even had much warning. One moment, they were swinging wide to the south to avoid a grove of tangled bushes that even Marluxia couldn't coax apart, the next there was a giant wall of brown/black fur in front of the Silent Hero.

He froze immediately, Zexion running smack into his back. The moose hadn't appeared to see them, yet, muzzle down in the muddy water, pulling up the water plants and eating contently.

"Back up," Lexaeus breathed to Zexion. "Back up slowly, very slowly…"

Zexion had gone very, very still, and started to back up, eyes locked on Lexaeus and the moose.

"What the _hell_ is the holdup!" Larxene shrilled, before Axel clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Shut the hell up, stupid whore," he hissed. "You wanna get us killed? That's a damned moose, those things are unpredictable. Just walk back with me, nice and slow, right this way…" He moved back, pulling her with him, still muffling any outraged sounds she made.

Lexaeus was oddly grateful to the redhead, something he wasn't certain he'd ever thought possible.

However, Larxene's outburst hadn't gone unnoticed by the huge mammal. Its head lifted, strings of weeds still hanging from it's muzzle. It stared directly at Lexaeus, brown eyes unreadable and utterly foreign.

The Silent Hero held his ground, meeting the animal's gaze, holding as still as stone, feeling his comrades retreat behind him. After a tense, breathless minute, the moose lowered his head and returned to cropping at the plants.

Sighing, Lexaeus relaxed slowly, taking a single step back in preparation to retreat himself.

He had only a second to realize that the moose was moving when the animal flung its head up and charged him. He didn't have time to summon a weapon, didn't have a chance to do more than grab the animal by the antlers in a vain attempt to keep it from charging. It was _strong_ , incredibly so, and forced him back and down into the thick, slimy mud.

He lowered his head and shifted to try and brace himself a little bit better against the mud, and the animal twisted its head, shoving him aside, off the "safe" path. His knee, caught in the mud, twisted ninety degrees before his foot was pulled free. Something had torn, he wasn't entirely sure what, and putting any weight on it was nearly impossible.

And somehow, he was still holding onto its antlers.

 _This is… bad, I think._

He tried to get his good leg under him, but the beast rammed is head into his chest, bruising sternum and ribs and breaking his grip. He was tossed back, landing with a wet _splat_ in the mud, flat on his back.

Struggling for breath, he rolled over as the moose charged again, the huge, heavy hooves barely missing him. Facedown in the mud, he couldn't see the creature, and rolled back over, clawing the mud from his eyes.

The moose was twenty feet away, contentedly cropping at the weeds in a new spot.

… _I hate this place._

And he had another thirty seconds to realize he was sinking.

 _Quicksand. How delightful. Axel_ did _say…_

It would be very, very easy to just sink. He was in a lot of pain, ribs bruised, maybe broken, his right leg twisted and useless. He wasn't sure he could even _get_ out of this.

The others had surely gotten away by now. How selfless of him, sacrificing himself for the good of the Organization. For the good of Zexion.

 _Again. History repeats itself. Only this time, it was a moose, not a boy._

 _Hm. I'm not sure which one is worse._

He attempted to move, and couldn't stop the groan of pain that pulled from him. The moose looked up, looked over at him, then returned to eating. The threat, or whatever the animal had thought he was, was dealt with, apparently.

Lexaeus closed his eyes. _They'll never get out of the swamp without me._

 _I can't fail Zexion again._

Gritting his teeth, he rolled back onto his stomach and began to haul himself out of the quicksand. His hand found a tussock of grass and he pulled himself, hand over hand, out of the marshy trap. The moose ignored him utterly, which only annoyed him more.

 _You could at least try to attack me again. Or look like you're going to. Or_ something _. I hate this place. I hate you. And I'm talking to a moose. In my head. I need to get out of here._

Back on (slightly) more solid ground, he lay for a long time, unable to move because of the stabbing pain in his chest. He coughed, and cleared his throat, spitting out blood.

 _Ah. A bad sign._

A hand closed around the collar of his coat. "I've got him," someone hissed- Axel? He couldn't tell. "Come on, toss it over, hurry up, I'm sinking, dammit!"

Yes, Axel.

He groaned again as his arms were lifted, and some kind of vine or rope was wrapped around his upper chest. He heard someone hissing for Axel to be _careful_ , that he was badly injured and not to tie it too tight. Axel ignored whoever was talking (it was probably Zexion) and wormed his way away from Lexaeus and the moose- which was still ignoring all the goings-on, as if it had never tried to kill the Silent Hero.

He blacked out after the first tug on the rope, and clawed his way back to consciousness a few seconds later. Everything was screaming in pain now, and spots danced in his vision.

 _Hm. This is horridly familiar._

Hands were laid on his face, small hands, patting his cheeks. "Lexaeus, open your mouth. Open up, damn you!"

 _Ah. Zexion._ Always the carrot and the stick, with his bedmate. Coax with one hand, beat with the other. He was as unpredictable as the moose, sometimes moreso.

If anyone had asked why Lexaeus stayed with the small Nobody, he probably would have shrugged and said "habit".

It was deeper than that, he was sure.

" _Open up_ , damn you!"

"Move aside, Zexion!"

Cold hands were on his jaw, pressing against pressure points (and _that_ hurt _too_ , damn it), forcing his jaw open. Liquid was promptly poured down his throat, and he choked, which only made his abused chest hurt more.

It was always such a… unique experience, to drink a potion, to _feel_ torn flesh and tendon and shattered bone reknit itself.

And it _hurt_. A lot. Groaning, he finally opened his eyes to see Zexion leaning over him, expression furious and worried.

The fact that he had any expression on his face _at all_ must have been a measure of how close Lexaeus had been to another death. And this time, no Card of Vexen's would be able to save him.

 _I need to be more careful._

"You need to be more careful!" Zexion echoed his thoughts, grabbing his coat and shaking him a little. "We can't afford to lose _anyone_!"

Lexaeus sat up slowly, rubbing his chest. "My thanks," he said mildly, knowing that Zexion meant "We can't afford to lose you" and possibly "I can't lose you again".

"Well, that's one potion down," Axel drawled. "Our only Hi-potion at that. Way to go, big guy."

"Why didn't you do something, then?" Lexaeus arched an eyebrow.

"And blow the place up? Better to let the Marsh's Strongest Man handle it," Axel snorted. "Looks like you lost your title, though. That thing beat the shit out of you."

"I'm aware," Lexaeus stood slowly, and Zexion was there to help immediately. He looked down at him, and his lips twitched slightly. "Very aware."

"We're going to have to be very careful," Vexen said, picking mud from his sleeve in what could only be called a nervous habit. "Without any hi-potions, and with only a limited number of potions, there's only so much damage we can take before the effects are irreversible…"

"And we die. We get that part, thanks," Larxene crossed her arms in contempt. "So no one do anything stupid," she glared at Lexaeus again, as if it had been _his_ fault that the moose had attacked. "Like Shorty said, we can't afford to lose anyone. And next time, maybe I won't cast my vote for saving the dumbass who got himself banged up."

Zexion couldn't even be goaded to rise to the bait; he simply snorted and shook his head. "We must conserve what we have," he said firmly. "Who knows when we'll find enough materials to make more."

"Or if we'll ever get to civilization to buy more," Axel muttered.

Marluxia coiled the vine he had coaxed to grow from the swamp and slung it over his shoulder. "We can leave now," he said, frowning. "Five minutes ago would be better."

Lexaeus carefully tested his right knee. It ached faintly, but nothing that would impede his journey.

"We're almost there," he said, looking towards the treeline. "Another mile to dry ground."

"Let's _move_ , then," Larxene danced in place, eager to be moving now. "Hurry up!"

Lexaeus glanced down at Zexion once more, before taking the lead again, carefully weaving his way towards the trees and the relative safety of the forest.

Behind them, the moose continued to graze peacefully, with no hint of its former violence.

By the time they hit solid ground, it was almost nightfall. The swamp had become utterly treacherous a quarter of a mile out from the trees, and it had taken all of Lexaeus' sorely-taxed skill to get them to safety.

Larxene kept pushing them onward, shrilly demanding that they find a _real_ place with _real_ water, before they stopped.

Thankfully, just over a small rise, there was a nice-sized glacial lake stretching before them. The water was clear and blue, tinged with the faint pink of the setting sun. Larxene promptly fell into the water, shrieking as she realized how _cold_ it was.

Lexaeus sank down where he was, content to let the others bathe before him. He was exhausted; his knee ached more than he'd thought, and various bruises that weren't severe enough for the potion to heal were throbbing.

Zexion sat down with him, hair hanging in his face, dirty and sweaty. "You can bathe," Lexaeus said, knowing his small friend absolutely hated being filthy in any way. "I will keep myself company."

"Let them go first," Zexion sighed, head hanging a little lower. Only Vexen seemed truly unaffected by the chill of the water- Axel was trying fruitlessly to heat it up, with Larxene paddling off behind some bushes to get _everything_ clean, yelling to the others to stay back and not come 'round said bushes. "I'll bathe in peace later."

"I'll join you." Lexaeus didn't mind dirt; he worked with the earth, and earth was dirt, after all, but the muck from the swamp had gotten _everywhere_ in his fight with the moose, and he hated it.

"Thank you." Zexion was silent now, too tired to speak, and Lexaeus sat, just as silent.

He waited for Zexion to say something about the moose, about the fight, about anything, but he said nothing. Nothing at all.

In fact, he was dozing, slumping slightly against Lexaeus as sleep robbed him of the ability to sit upright. Sighing, the larger Nobody put his arm around him, pulling him a little closer. _I wish you would talk to me, Zexion. We do need to talk, about many things. But there are interruptions, and others around. I know how you hate their presence._

With another sigh, he looked up, searching to see if the others were done bathing. They weren't- Marluxia was scrubbing at his scalp hard enough to tear it off.

 _He'll be in there for a while, I suppose._

By the time he finally shook Zexion awake with a gentle hand on his shoulder and moved down to the beach, stripping off his coat, Larxene had emerged from around the bend, grinning. Her arms were filled with small rodent-like animals. "I found a whole bunch of them. They'll be delicious."

"At least you made yourself useful," Vexen drawled, taking the meat from her. She splashed him with water, and pulled on her sodden coat. Looking over at Lexaeus as he waded into the cold water, she gave a little coo of appreciation.

"Not bad," she said, giving him the once-over. "The water's cold… need some warming up?"

Zexion's glare was murderous as he stripped off his own coat. Lexaeus waded in up to his waist before replying. "It would be a shame to waste any more potions today."

Larxene's lips thinned. "Your loss," she tossed her hair over her shoulder and waded out of the cold water.

"Of disease," Zexion muttered, wading into the lake half-clothed to attempt to clean off the ruined fabric of his pants. Lexaeus merely chuckled, the sound obviously pleasing to the small Nobody.

They bathed in silence, too, after that, Lexaeus waiting for Zexion to say… something, though he wasn't sure just what. _I'll know it when I hear it._

The cold felt good on his bruises, and when he finally pulled himself out, he pulled on his half-wet pants and left the coat off. It was too restrictive at the moment, too painful on his bruised arms and chest. Besides, Zexion didn't mind at all.

Most of the former members of the Organization _had_ left their coats off; the only exception being Larxene, and with good reason. "I don't want you perverts staring at me," she muttered, turning the muskrats on a spit. "They're almost done."

"Good, I'm starving," Axel rubbed his hands together, watching the cooking meat in delight.

"Here, chew on this while you wait," Marluxia gave him a handful of greens. "They're bitter. I found a nice patch of dandelions for a before-meal salad."

Lexaeus accepted a handful off them with a nod, and made sure Zexion ate some as well. _When we're not arguing, this is not bad. We've made it this far. Perhaps we will make it until the end._

But what was the end? Where were they _really_ going? Could they go anywhere?

Would there ever _be_ an end?

 _These are Zexion's thoughts,_ Lexaeus shook his head to himself. _Not mine. I do not worry about these things unless asked._

He ate his muskrat in silence, listening to Marluxia and Larxene bicker about what direction to take in the morning. Zexion leaned against his side, dozing again, and Lexaeus shifted, gently laying the Schemer down and settling beside him without at word.

Full for the first time in some days, he closed his eyes and sighed. _Tomorrow will be better. And the next day better after that. And so things will go, until whatever end._

 _Yes. Until whatever end may come._


	13. Chapter 012 – The Glass Casket

Chapter: 012 – The Glass Casket.  
Location: Dark Forest  
Characters: Marluxia, Vexen, Larxene, Axel, Zexion, Lexaeus.  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, for some swearing  
Summary: In which we find some things we did not expect, and other things never change. 

**Chapter 012: Dark Forest – The Glass Casket.**

* * *

The lake stretched out beside them, glittering water reflecting the dull sky overhead. They had been following the shore for all morning. Compared to the swamp, the rocky beach was bliss to traverse. A sweet breeze swept in from the lake and dispelled the stink from the swamp across the hill. Gentle waves broke on the stones. Birds swooped overhead, just out of reach for Larxene's kunai.

All in all, it was a gentle day that was completely at odds with Marluxia's mood. At least leading the way was a small blessing; he didn't have to see the others as they trudged along behind him. It was a fragile illusion of leadership, but it had to do for now.

 _They are all so woefully misguided. Why can't they see?_ Oh, he could understand the bitterness over his… hostile actions towards some of the others. But it had been necessary! Sacrifices required by a leader in times of need. But now they had all turned against him, overreacting out of sheer panic. They were bringing about their own downfall.

Behind him, he heard Lexaeus' deep voice and Axel's shrill protesting. It seemed the fire elemental had tried to singe Larxene's bangs. Again. A small pang of irritation hit him for a quick moment. He didn't know which was worse; that the others kept bickering like small children, heedless of his words, or that Lexaeus could silence them with barely a look. _Fools._

They had argued over what path to follow, now that the stream had ended its course in the dark grey lake. In the end, they had struck out along the lake, in a foolhardy attempt to find the "civilization" Vexen kept going on about. _A worthless idea. There is none such to be found here._ Still, the chase kept the others from taking Axel's cue and entering the Darkness once again. An even worse prospect.

Sometimes, the others' presence behind him itched. It made him feel daggers pointed at his back. But at least they were all here, hidden and out of sight from any and all enemies. The Elders at least could see that much sense. It was practical. A strategic move, useful for the moment.

But as soon as that usefulness was over… another rumble from Lexaeus invaded on his thoughts. Number Five was definitely something that would require attention.

The trek grew tougher, soggy lowlands releasing yet more water into the lake. He grit his teeth and attempted not to feel the stink. It was almost as bad as yesterday. Mud smeared all over his coat, adding yet another layer of brown. Half dead bracken snarled around everyone's legs.

"Get this stuff away from us!" Larxene tore at it with her hands.

Marluxia snarled back. "Bracken never listens. And even if it _did_ , this lot is dead!"

Trials. If he didn't know better, he'd say they were sent to try him. At least the hardships kept the other suitably occupied.

They took a short break upon reaching dry ground on the other side. The sky overhead was still overcast, and a chilly wind blew in from the lake. He sat by himself, studying the others as they rubbed blistered feet and drank from the lake. Larxene was joking with Axel, the incident from this morning seemingly forgotten. Normally he'd join them, if only to affirm his leadership. Right now, though, it was better to be discrete, and wait until she had forgotten his… tactical voting. As long as Axel stayed around, though, that would never happen. That man held no honour whatsoever.

Honour. It was what separated the men from the beasts, and he was quite sure he was the only one here possessing even the slightest scrap of it. What else could possibly have led Xemnas to choose him as Lord of Castle Oblivion? For those who could see it, his true heritage would always shine though. Lesser men had conscience, but a true lord, an innate leader…. he had the sort of honour only such a man could have. Honour that was separate from emotion and feelings, existing only as a perfect goal of a higher intelligence.

Intelligent as they may be, not even the Elders understood. Just yesterday Zexion had watched him, unreadable underneath his ridiculous bangs; instinctively expecting Marluxia to take advantage of the situation. Lexaeus was hurt, thrown like a rag doll into the mud. Marluxia had voted for the use of a potion. They all had. But where the others had voted in favour just for the fear of loosing Lexaeus, their strong man, their able protector, Marluxia had far higher reasons. Zexion didn't understand.

A potion for a potion. Lexaeus' small mercy would not interfere with his well deserved revenge. He doubted the other even understood the deeper meanings of his own actions, but that did not mean Marluxia could ignore the consequences. He would wait, plan and execute his retaliation like a cobra; deadly and cold. Lexaeus would never see it coming.

Some type of commotion erupted among the other. Seemed Larxene had decided to blast something again. Marluxia blotted the disturbance from his mind; he had had far too much of the kind lately. His mind drifted back to the day before, to the mixed feelings of disappointment and satisfaction as the animal struck Lexaeus down. No one else than him would have survived. For a split second he was sure he had been robbed of his revenge.

Still, it was disconcerting to realize afterwards that he had just stood there. A truly honourable man would have stepped in, saving the object of his grudge so that proper revenge could be dealt later. But the idea of calling his scythe had not even formed in his head. Was he lacking in his honour? Could he be-

Something small and hard hit him in the back of his head. Surprised and enraged, he whirled around just as another small projectile came flying and hit him straight between his eyes.

 **Interlude: In accordance with a certain recent vote, it has been decided that Marluxia only gets** _ **half**_ **a chapter. We will now follow the adventures of Mr. Squirrel the squirrel.**

It was not a good day for Mr. Squirrel. First, Mrs. Squirrel had chewed him out for eating too many nuts. Then, the Owl had hunted him over most of the meadow before he could escape up a tree. And now, six big, loud things were blocking his way down to the lake and _throwing lightning at him_. It wasn't the fist time that happened, and Mr. Squirrel knew what to do. It had worked last time.

Ignoring the shrill bleating from the small yellow-furred one, whose sound went something like "diiinnnnnnnerrrrdiinnneerrr!", he grabbed the nearest nut and threw it with all his might at the closest one. It produced a satisfying thudding sound and a loud yelp. Heartened, he set another flying, this time aiming for the pink-furred one slumped on a rock.

A lightning bolt singed the branch he was sitting on. Understanding that discretion was the better part of valour, he retreated into the woods. Crashes behind him told him they had decided to follow him. No, this was definitely not a good day for Mr. Squirrel.

Larxene, enraged by the shower of nuts, predictably rushed after the squirrel into the forest. "Just you wait, you little flea bitten rat!"

Marluxia sighed irritably. So lacking in self control. Zexion likewise made an irritated sound and headed after Number Twelve into the foliage. With nothing better to do, the rest of the group trailed after. It might at least provide some entertainment.

The sounds of the pursuit had grew stronger before them, Larxene's shouted expletives mixing with the angry chatter of the rodent. Finally, they stumbled out into a clearing to find her standing below a tree, trying to hit the critter as it merrily hopped from branch to branch and finally disappeared among the leaves.

"Come back here so I can _kill_ you, you fucking…!"

"Larxene." Zexion's voice cut though her tirade. "Forget the squirrel. Come and look at this instead. "

The rest of them turned towards the Schemer. He was standing in the middle of the flower covered clearing, studying a large metal table set among the blossoms.

Marluxia approached the table, only now noting the flowers that flourished all over the ground. _They should not do that .It's too late in the year._ But no matter the facts; life was pulsing though them like it was the warmest spring day. It made his toes tingle.

The table was a massive slab, seemingly moulded in one piece of some kind of yellowish metal and long enough for a human being to lie flat on. Something glittered on the surface. Vexen reached down and picked up a piece something transparent and jagged. "Glass."

"It's all over the table."

"And all over the ground, too." Axel replied, nudging a large shard with his foot. "Wonder where it came from?"

"A glass table…." It stuck a chord somewhere in the back of his mind. Where had he heard of this before?

"Hey, there's something written here!" Larxene had bent down and fingered the edge of the table. "Carved letters! Sn..ow…whi te. Snow White!"

"Snow White. One of the Princesses of Heart, is she not?" Lexaeus wondered.

"I have no idea. I never spent much time studying that particular topic." Nevertheless, Vexen appeared fascinated, even willingly placing himself at Larxene's side for a closer look.

"She is. I remember reading a report on the matter." Marluxia picked up another shard of glass. "Think Number Three wrote it. Snow White, the one who was poisoned in a family dispute and spent some time comatose inside a glass coffin."

"A glass coffin? This one? Was it supposed to help against the coma? Doesn't seem too fitting for a patient…" Zexion joined Vexen in inquisitively scouring the surface.

Axel shrugged. "Maybe it was meant to keep her that way? Handily out of the way."

"From what Number Three gathered, she was believed dead. The surviving family apparently practiced some sort of ancestry worship, preserving her body for display and bringing her sacrifices."

"Must have been quite a scene when she woke up." Larxene giggled gleefully.

Marluxia bent down to drag his hand over the carpet of blossoms. "The presence of a Princess of Heart would at least explain the flowers."

A first few spatters of rain hit the table, glittering next to the glass like so many fake diamonds. A collective groan went up amongst the group as cowls were tugged up and zippers closed.

"Now what?" Axel almost whined.

"It's easy." The fire elemental glared at Marluxia, who sighed and elaborated. "This is Snow White's tomb. If her family really came to visit her, they can't be far away. There must be a road, a path."

They found the path at the far end of the clearing. It had an overgrown, unused quality to it. No one had any reason any more to visit this enchanted glade. No one up until now. Marluxia stepped out first onto the new road, hurrying his steps in the rain.  
 _Finally. Things are moving._


	14. Chapter 013 – The Triumph of Mr Squirre

Chapter: 013 – The Triumph of Mr. Squirrel.  
Location: Dark Forest  
Characters: Mr. Squirrel, Mrs. Squirrel  
Rating/Warnings: None  
Summary: A hero arrives home. 

**Chapter 013: Dark Forest – The Triumph of Mr. Squirrel.**

* * *

Mr. Squirrel arrived home just in time to avoid the first drops of rain.  
The missus threw him a glare, clearly not having forgotten about this morning, but then caught sight of his singed tail. Her eyes widened in shock. Mr. Squirrel burred up his fur with pride. Wounds of battle!  
Employing a lot of chattering and a multitude of waving arms, he told her the tale of the six – six! – Evil Stepmothers that he had met at the lake shore, and defeated with nothing else than his wit and strong right arm. Lady squirrels loved that stuff. They had been tall, and black, and each had been even uglier than that first one from a few years back. But he had sent them running!  
Predictably, her eyes softened in admiration. Before he knew what, she had parked him in a pile of nuts, with his injured tail supported in a pillow of soft moss. Oh yes, the day was certainly looking better for Mr. Squirrel.


	15. Chapter 014 - Road's End

Chapter: 014 - Road's End  
Location: Dark Forest  
Characters: Axel, Vexen, Zexion, Marluxia, Larxene, Lexaeus  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for a tad of bad language.  
Summary: In the dark of the night certain things are found. This may or may not include the Renegades. 

**Chapter 014 : Dark Forest - Road's End.**

* * *

Twilight fell early, the approaching dusk helped along by the dark, ominous clouds gathering overhead.  
Normally they would have made camp as evening fell, but having found the path lent hope of finding someplace dry and maybe even warm to spend the night, and so they stubbornly kept walking. No-one much felt like curling up to sleep in the steady rain.

After having stubbed his toes on a protruding root or stone one time too many Axel finally swore loudly. Raising his hands he summoned his chakrams, blazing circles of fire bursting into solid form from his palms to light the path.  
Squinting somewhat in the sudden light it took him a second or two to realize the five other Nobodies were all clutching weapons aimed at him, glowering at him with a mix of shock and anger written all over their faces. He blinked, then quirked his lips somewhat, though careful to stand very still.  
" For the light, okay? Damn, good thing you're not all paranoid or anything."

Vexen's eyes were narrow with hate, but the flickering light reflected in them gave them a wild, almost panicked look.  
" If we mistrust you it's for very good reasons, traitor," he spat.  
" Indeed," muttered Zexion, reluctantly letting the huge black tome in his arms dissipate back into darkness.  
Marluxia sniffed in disdain, lowering his scythe.  
" It would be... _prudent_ , perhaps, to give some warning if you intend to do that again. It would be most unfortunate if we were all to accidentally kill you."  
Larxene just grinned and dispatched her kunai.  
" Smart thinking, asshole."  
" Yeah, yeah, fine. You want to walk in the dark, we can walk in the dark. Just don't blame me next time Lex walks into something big that tries to kill us all."  
They glared, but the solid silence was testimony enough that he was right.  
The last weapons faded into the gloom, but the look on the others' faces made it very clear they could be instantly called forth again if needed.

Marluxia gave him the most sickening smile he could ever remember seeing on the man's lips and took half a step aside, making a small beckoning gesture.  
" Since you so nobly have offered to light our path it would perhaps be wisest for you to walk in front."  
 _Where we can all see you._  
The unspoken words hung hard and solid in the air.

He shrugged and gave a half-hearted grin.  
" Sure, whatever. I was getting a bit fed up watching your pink head up ahead anyway."  
Even in the half-light he could see the Assassin's eyes go dark and cold.  
Brushing past the taller man he raised his blazing weapons slightly, the fire hissing and spitting sulkily in the rain. At least now he could see the muddy road properly, avoiding the abundance of roots, rocks and puddles of water growing deeper by the minute.

Following the glow of firelight through the rain, they pressed on.

Every time they felt ready to give up for the night some little tantalizing sign of human presence would emerge through the darkness to spur them on; a bridge, an unreadable weathered sign at a crossroads, a broken, abandoned lantern swinging forlornly from a tree.

The rain had called in thunder for reinforcement, still just a menacing growl at the horizon, but the way the rain steadily increased it was a fair guess the night was going to get worse before it got better.

Times like these, Zexion thought bitterly, you couldn't help but wonder if it wouldn't just be better to give up, give in and head back to the blessed barely-somethingness of their World That Never Was.  
Xemnas and the others might be... displeased, yes, but surely, _surely_ whatever symbolic atonement they would suffer there couldn't be worse than being stranded in this abysmal hell-hole of an excuse for a world?

Of course it could, and he knew it all too well.  
At least the rain wasn't deadly, the cold not mercilessly judging, the mud not meticulously extracting righteous vengeance for foolish mistakes, although at times you would be tempted to believe it.

Thunder roared again, closer this time, as though eager to prove him wrong.

Up ahead Axel was whining that his arms were tired from walking with his hands raised, blazing beacons held high, for several miles. Marluxia seemed all too happy to encourage him to keep going, though, something about the duties of a leader, the discomfort of one a necessary sacrifice for the well-being of the many. The fallen Lord did seem to occasionally take to the concept of democracy with exemplary enthusiasm, he'd noticed. At least whenever a chance appeared to make someone else suffer.  
 _Idiots._  
Then, if anyone deserved to be on the receiving end of Marluxia's petty, unforgiving malice, it was Axel.

At the end of the line Vexen was whining an equally pathetic and rather endless tirade about offensive rain, sore feet and disagreeable travelling companions. That particular nuisance, however, had by now become so regular he could tune it out without even thinking about it.  
 _Well. Some idiots, some fools._

The rain was so thick and their moods so bleak that they stared incomprehendingly at the cottage up ahead for several moments before realizing what they were seeing.

It was a very small house, they realized as they approached, small even for a peasant's cottage, as though built on a different scale altogether. The front door only reached Lexaeus to the waist.  
" Think we can go inside?" Axel whispered, trying to peer through a window. The cottage was silent and dark, seemingly deserted.  
" I sure as hell _will_ ," Larxene snarled. " Like hell I'm sleeping in the mud if there's a nice dry indoors right in front of our noses."  
" We don't know if there's someone in there, " Vexen pointed out, though he looked more than willing to be persuaded.  
" Too bad for them. You really saying the six of us couldn't handle whatever tried to keep us out in the rain a night like this?" Larxene scoffed, trying the handle. The door was unlocked.  
" I mean, even Vexen can pack a decent punch if he gets pissed enough, and little Zexion can... I dunno, be creepy at them."  
Ducking under the low doorframe she vanished into the gloom.  
The others exchanged a glance.

" She has a point," Marluxia shrugged. "Besides, whatever creature small enough to live here shouldn't be much of a threat."  
" Hnf. Don't judge so blindly. Size isn't everything," Zexion sneered, obviously offended by Larxene's casual remark. Axel chuckled.  
" And this from the guy who bangs Lexaeus? Hah, what a hypocrite!"

Leaving Zexion fuming angrily in the rain, the redhead quickly ducked into the cottage before the large Nobody in question saw fit to snap him in two for his insolence.

It shouldn't be possible for a man to crawl through a front door on his hands and knees with preserved dignity, but Lexaeus managed  
Once past the tiny door the main room of the cottage was decently large, high-ceilinged and spacious. One single resigned glance however revealed all of the furniture to be as unfitting for his size as the door, and so he sighed slightly, nudged aside a heap of pots, pans and logs of wood and sat down on the floor near the cold fireplace.  
An overlooked piece of rock dug into the small of his back and he irritably flicked it aside, then hesitated and gave the offending thing a second, more pensive glance. Certain minerals could truly be quite interesting little things, after all.

Pleased to have escaped the rain, they all spread out to carefully investigate their unexpected but appreciated haven.

" No-one up here," Larxene reported, emerging from a door up an elaborately carved staircase. " Several beds, though. But very small ones. Won't fit any of you big boys."  
" See!" Axel chirped, giving Zexion a friendly slap on the back. " Sometimes it's _good_ to be tiny!"  
Flailing to regain his balance after the unexpected thump, the shorter Nobody gave the grinning man a murderous glare and growled between clenched teeth.  
" So help me, Axel, if you don't drop the subject _right now_ , I swear-..."  
Before the fire-wielder had a chance to respond with something potentially fatal a loud crack of thunder shook the cottage, drowning his words.

" That one was close," Larxene noted, descending the stairs to join the rest of them in the main room. " Good thing we found this place. This storm's a nasty one. Even I wouldn't want to be outside tonight."  
Nudging a child-sized chair aside with his foot, Marluxia opted to sit down on a cleared corner of the otherwise quite messy table. He smiled minutely.  
" The good news, my dear Larxene, is that you won't have to. We spend the night here. Depending on the weather we'll see about moving on to better yet accommodations tomorrow. If nothing else we can pick up quite a bit of useful equipment here."

It was perhaps proof of the current languid contentment of the others that no-one even bothered to knock the persistent illusion of leadership out of the man. But then, admittedly, it wasn't a bad idea.

Having realized it was possibly in his future best interest to atone somewhat for his earlier lack of respect by making himself useful, Axel approached Lexaeus by the fireplace with a friendly grin.

" You look horribly cold and wet, Lexaeus. How about we get a nice fire started here?"  
The Silent Hero gave him a very steady look for long enough that he had to fight down the urge to squirm, before giving a small approving nod.  
" Just don't burn the place down," Vexen muttered from across the room, but even the chilly scientist looked wet and miserable enough to appreciate the thought of some warmth.  
Glaring at the redhead, never one to give up petty grudges easily, Zexion pulled up one of the small chairs and joined Lexaeus by the fireplace.

" I'm starving. Anyone checked the place for food?" Larxene asked, rubbing her growling stomach.  
" Feel free to," Marluxia graciously conceded, earning himself a pointed glare.  
" Fine. Then I'll look for the food, and you'll cook, clean and do the dishes?"  
Arrogant the Assassin might be, but not stupid. Rising from his seat he gave her an appeasing half-smile.  
" You know, perhaps I should just help you look."  
" I thought you might want to," she smiled sweetly, mouthing the words 'male chauvinist pig' as he turned his back.

With what was for the mistrustful crew quite an amazing display of cooperation, it was only half an hour later that they gathered around the cleared table to enjoy a somewhat watery but warm and not at all bad-tasting soup boiled on whatever edible things had been found around the kitchen cupboards. Having deemed the chairs too small for even Larxene or Zexion they had all opted to sit on the floor.

A fire burned brightly in the fireplace, spreading blissful warmth, and after the rain, walking and unusual abundance of food, the silence following their meal was sleepy and satisfied rather than tense and wary.

" Heh, you know, I was sure I was a goner earlier," Axel chuckled lazily, half-draped over the table and amusing himself by letting the candles blow smoke rings, fragile little shapes drifting into the gloom under the ceiling.  
" You all looked about to kill me on the spot."  
" Oh, Axel, it would be a horrible thing if we lost you through such a freak accident," Marluxia said gravely. " I for one certainly hope to be able to kill you quite consciously and torturously for betraying me when that time comes."

The fire-wielder grinned.  
" Likewise. You have no idea how disappointed I was that you hid behind Sora and Naminé when I came to kill you. Even Vexen and Zexion showed more backbone at the end."  
Vexen snarled and shook his head in disgust.  
" It gives you some perverted pleasure to speak of these things?"  
Axel spread his hands with an innocent look.  
" What? It was practically a compliment!"

" Death is really not a lot fun," Larxene added thoughtfully, heating the tip of one of her kunai over a candle to burn little patterns into the table surface. " At least not from the inside."  
She stared wistfully into the candle with large, unreadable eyes.  
" You know, life's really such a short and precious thing. Just like that, it can be over. So many chances, lost forever."  
The other five Nobodies around the table stared in disbelief at this uncharacteristic display of existential philosophy from the small woman. She sighed.  
" I think I'll spend more time on the torture-bit from now on, _before_ I kill people. After all, once they're dead, you can't hurt them anymore. So many chances, lost forever."  
Vexen made a grand gesture of utter frustration before hiding his face in his hands.  
" Savages, the lot of you!"

Zexion leaned his chin against his steepled fingers.  
" Us all being forced into cooperation is certainly far from an ideal situation. Still, I fear we will have to overcome our differences at least for a while if we are to survive."  
" Yes, Zexion, we know," Larxene said patiently. " We talked about it in the forest, remember?"  
The Schemer didn't even spare her a glance.  
" I _meant_ that we not only have to tolerate each other's presence. We have to..." he made a pause, as though loath to let the words escape his lips, " actively strive for cooperation and mutual assistance within the group. That means helping each other," he condescendingly elaborated.

" 'Utilizing _all_ our assets, not only the brute strength of individuals'..?" Marluxia asked, and there was an odd depth to his scathing tone.  
Lexaeus gave him an unreadable look.  
" Yes. After all, in times of crisis we already are, haven't you noticed? We have already managed to survive for a fortnight in an alien, unwelcoming land. We have traversed a most taxing landscape, endured a number of hardships, and never once was anyone left behind. When Larxene got stuck in the marshes, and when I was injured, everyone came together to help, without second thought."

There was a thick, all but embarrassed silence.

" Lexaeus," Larxene said with unusual kindness, even though there was a scornful smirk twitching at the corners of her mouth," None of that was looking out for each other. That was just saving our own asses."

The look the large man gave her was all but ancient, displaying all the patience of a severely tried deity confronted with worshippers asking why setting their own feet on fire was a bad idea.

" Yes, Larxene," he replied with eternal endurance. " I know. That is what I'm talking about. If we willingly help each other, not only when desperately necessary, we will in the long run in fact be, as you put it, saving our own asses."  
He looked around and gave a deep sigh.

" Do any of you truly believe I am any more willing to be here than the rest of you? That Zexion is? Do you think either of us have helped, guided and looked out for any of you because we like you? Marluxia, Larxene; your treason ultimately ruined us all. Axel double-crossed everyone, and in the end, you even attempted to kill Zexion."  
The gigantic man's dark glare was a truly uncomfortable thing, Axel promptly realized when faced with it.  
" Even you, Vexen, got yourself involved and in the end betrayed us."  
The pale scientist made a protesting gesture, started to speak, but sank back silent under that steady gaze.

" Even so, " Lexaeus continued, " Even so Zexion has spent every waking moment on guard to be able to give us warning were our enemies to find us. I have helped every one of you during our trek through the forest. Not because we would harbour any tender feelings for any of you even were we able to, but because we recognize the necessity of working together. Perhaps it is time you all stop antagonizing everyone else and do the same."

The Silent Hero usually did not speak often or much, but when he did it was because he had something crucial to say.  
The silence following his speech was broken only by the sleepy crackling of the fire.

" I said as much," Marluxia stated quietly. " Several times. No-one would listen."  
" Well, " Axel shrugged philosophically. " That was because it was _you_ saying it."

Larxene leaned back on her hands and looked out the window, the stark white light of lightning etching her face older, sharper than it usually seemed.  
" Do you, any of you, really believe we can make it?"

Zexion shrugged.  
" Possibly. I honestly doubted we would survive the first days. Every day we live, the statistics tip more to our favour."  
Axel stretched and scratched at his neck.  
" Trying to make it beats the alternative, right? Even if it means putting up with you all."

Vexen looked away, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, the narrow face drawn more gaunt than ever in the harsh, flickering light.  
" We don't have to like it," he said with weary resignation. " It's our only chance."

Larxene smirked and opened her mouth to deliver some insult or other, but started and turned back to the window.  
" There's something out there!"

In the sudden silence the furious pounding of the rain suddenly seemed a lot louder, the roar of thunder an almost physical force. Only darkness could be seen outside, darkness and the droplets of rain running down the window panes, illuminated by the candlelight from inside.

" Zexion..?" Vexen hissed, as still as a statue. " Can you pick up a scent? Who is it?"  
The younger man closed his eyes, then creased his brow in frustration.  
" Can't make anything out," he whispered back. " Not with so many new scents. Not through the rain and ozone."

Marluxia raised his hands slowly as though to summon his scythe but Zexion made a small, sharp gesture.  
" No-one uses Darkness! If it is the Organization it would give us away."

Still the night was cruelly dark, the rolls of thunder mockingly distant.  
Then finally lightning struck, the blinding light revealing the black, distorted silhouettes of the seven hooded figures outside, too close, already much too close.

The Organization had come.

In the following blinding darkness panic exploded.  
Nobodies shot to their feet, knocking over chairs and candlesticks, almost tripping each other up.

" _Run!_ " Marluxia bellowed, command for once not questioned. " Grab whatever you're holding and _run_!"

Someone, no-one recalled who, opened a humming dark corridor even as lightning struck again. Without time for a final look back they all dove through, prey desperately outracing predator, swiftly closing the portal behind them as they fled.

" You know, " Larxene said thoughtfully as they finally began catching their breaths again, surrounded by dark, wet brick walls in gloom as solid and rainy as what they'd left behind.  
" I don't think that was the Organization. I... have a very hard time imagining Xemnas going 'hi-ho'."  
" Could have been," Vexen wheezed, leaning against the nearest wall, a spoon and butter-knife still clutched tightly in his hand. " But... no. Probably not. Not 'hi-ho'."  
Axel shook his head.  
" Damn. That's two times in a day now I think I'm done for. It's a damned good thing we don't have hearts, or mine would have given up about now."  
Rain was drizzling down the narrow, dirty alley, glittering on the rough cobblestones.

" Axel."  
Marluxia's voice was tinged with dry amusement, an odd enough reaction for them all to turn to look at him.  
Axel turned to give him a questioning look.  
" What?"  
" What had you intended to use that for..?" Marluxia inquired, indicating the intricately decorated but very, very small chair the other man was holding. Axel blinked and stared.  
" Er."

Larxene started giggling.  
" Well, you did say to grab whatever we were holding. You didn't say it had to be useful."  
The corners of the Assassin's mouth twitched with mirth.  
" How foolish of me. I must have been distracted."

 _Adrenaline_ , Vexen thought, even as he felt his own lips twist into a grin, _it's just chemicals wearing off_. Hell if he wasn't going to enjoy a laugh at the deceitful bastard's expense, though.  
By now even Axel was laughing sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his head with his free hand.

" I dunno. Maybe it'll come in handy? Gotta plan ahead!"

Zexion snorted. Even Lexaeus' usual stony expression was tinted slightly with amusement.

The adrenaline did indeed wear off eventually, emotionless equilibrium settling down once again.  
Axel shook his head and looked into the rainy gloom.

" So. Anyone have any idea where we are?"


	16. Chapter 015 – The City

Chapter: 015 – The City.  
Location: London  
Characters: Vexen, Axel, Marluxia, Larxene, Lexaeus, Zexion  
Rating/Warnings: PG/None  
Summary: The renegades arrive on another world, and recover from their abrupt departure from the Forest. 

**Chapter 015: London – The City.**

* * *

"The weather isn't any better _here_ than it was in the forest."

Axel glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowing in annoyance. "You've said that three times in the last ten minutes, Vexen. Do us a favor, and _shut the hell up_."

"You're one to talk!" Vexen sounded positively outraged. "You've done nothing but complain either!"

"At least he's been _inventive_ about it," Larxene mused thoughtfully. "Complained about the cold, then the damp, then the smell… Gotta give him some credit for variety."

"Shut up, Larxene!" Vexen drew his coat about himself a little more, but it was already drenched, and did little to keep out the chill that even _he_ felt. "I have a right to my opinion!"

"And we have a right to tell you to shut the hell up," Axel agreed, putting his hands behind his head. "Such is life."

"Shut up!" Vexen repeated, scowling. "Where _are_ we?"

That was the real question. They knew they were on a different world- they had to be. Zexion affirmed that the air smelled entirely different, that the very atmosphere itself had changed. So therefore, it was a different world.

However, that still didn't help them identify which world it was. All they knew was that it was a city, and a large one by the fact that they were still wandering around it, some hours after they'd arrived.

It was dark- very dark, because most of the tall lampposts with the square lamps set on top were not lit. Every house on every street was dark, the shops dark, everything _dark_. It did not make them feel welcome or at home at all.

Who knew what could be hiding in those shadows.

They finally paused near a lit lamppost, under a small awning, to take stock of their supplies.

"I have a chair," Axel said, which was foolish, because they already _knew_ that. "Maybe we can sell it, or burn it for warmth. If we ever find somewhere _dry_."

"I've got silverware." Vexen held out a few spoons, knives and forks. "These will be quite useful if we have to go back to the wilderness."

"I have knives, too," Marluxia held out a series of sharper knives, meant for cutting meat. "Though what good they'll do us here, I'm not sure. Perhaps we could sell them?"

"We should hang onto them," Vexen shook his head. "If nothing else, we can defend ourselves against enemies with them, if our powers become useless or too dangerous to use." _Would the Organization find us easier, if we used our powers more often…?_

"I have… a tablecloth and a mug." Larxene examined her find. "Both in fine shape. The tablecloth we could sell, maybe, or use as patches for clothing." She eyed her own ragged hems and sleeves.

"That's got promise," Zexion agreed, holding up his armful of bits and pieces. "Jars of spices, as well as some salt shakers." He gave a half-smirk. "These _will_ be useful, if we must return to the wilderness, or if we have to filch food from this place. I'm sure our salt intake has been lower than recommended."

"Hm." Lexaeus, silent until now, simply held up something that caught the light of the lamppost and refracted it into a hundred little rainbows. "This should be worth a great deal."

Vexen sucked in a breath, leaning in to eye the massive gemstone Lexaeus held. "Where did you get _that_?"

"In the cabin," Lexaeus turned the precious stone this way and that, admiring the way it caught the light. "I believe we should sell this, for a reasonable price."

"Take the money and run," Zexion mused, chin in hand. His eyes narrowed faintly. "And why didn't you tell us of this?" There was a great deal of _me_ in that "us".

"There wasn't time," Lexaeus shrugged. "The… others arrived."

 _Hmm._ Vexen eyed his fellow Elders. All was not well in the happy-land of Five and Six. If _he_ could see it, the others probably could as well.

No doubt it amused the neophytes to no end. They were probably taking bets on a dramatic, tear-filled separation.

 _What a mess we're all in._ The scientist raked a hand through his hair. "Very well, then. That just leaves us with the challenge of finding a place to stay."

"No place is open this late- whatever time it is-" Larxene began, when the deep, sonorous tolling of a bell interrupted her. They turned and spotted, some distance away, a large bell tower. There were several clock faces, and the once facing them was clearly legible, even from this distance.

"Two in the morning. Yeah, nothing's open," Larxene tossed her hair a bit. "How dull."

"Shut up, Larxene," Vexen said, almost automatically. "Perhaps an inn, or hotel, or-"

"And we'll afford that… how?" Marluxia arched an eyebrow. "We have no munny available to us. It's all locked up inside that rock." He jerked his chin towards the diamond that Lexaeus was carefully replacing inside his coat. "We can't stay in a hotel."

"Maybe there are warehouses here," Zexion mused, finger on his chin. "Wait- I definitely smell _horse_. That means stables."

"Stables are at least enclosed spaces," Axel agreed, tossing his chair from hand to hand in boredom. "Usually pretty warm, too."

"So let us find a stable," Marluxia gestured vaguely. "If that's the general consensus," he hastened to add, as Lexaeus arched an eyebrow.

"I suppose it is," Vexen looked out at the misty, rainy streets. "We can't stay _here_ , after all."

"Let's go," Larxene groused. "I just want to get _dry_."

Zexion lead the way this time, sensitive nose picking out the smell of dry straw, manure and warm, living horses even through the rainy muck they trod through. He clearly didn't like it, and Vexen couldn't blame him. Even to the less-sensitive Nobodies, this place was unclean, the scent of manure and waste thicker than they were used to, and after the clean, fresh air of the forest, it seemed worse.

Finally, the small Nobody lead them to the nearest stable. It was bigger than any of them had expected, and it was ridiculously easy for Axel to jimmy the lock and let them all in.

Inside, Vexen was relieved to see that no less than a third of the stalls were utterly empty. As exhausted as he was, he still didn't want to share his sleeping space with a draft horse that could easily crush his skull merely stepping on it.

They simply sprawled into the nearest empty stable, curling up in the fresh, dry straw. Axel started a fire after scraping away the straw from a large circle of bare earth.

Vexen was exhausted, and the others didn't look to be in much better shape. As they started to dry off, and as the heat from the flames soaked into tired bones and sore joints, they dropped off to sleep, one by one.

And were rudely awakened half an hour later, by a startled, angry "Oi!"

Vexen sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes, but Zexion, closest to the door, had already snapped into full awareness- a trait the blond secretly envied. "Who are you?"

"Should be askin' th' same of you!" A man- thin, underfed and dressed in ragged clothes- jabbed a pitchfork at them. "Y'r not allowed t'be in 'ere!"

The accent was so thick, it took a moment for Vexen to decipher it. Thankfully, Zexion was already on the backstep, and held his hands up. "Our apologies. We had no idea. We aren't from around here."

"C'n tell that!" The man's hands were shaking- he wasn't enjoying this. _I can't blame him. Even with a pitchfork, six-to-one odds aren't that great._ "Git outta 'ere!"

"Please, you must understand," Zexion clasped his hands together, bowing his head. "We're exhausted, ill, we just want to rest for the night…"

"You wouldn't… wouldn't _really_ kick us out, would you?" Larxene crawled forward, eyes widened for effect. "Please, sir, we're _dreadfully_ cold…"

"And we've come a long way," Zexion added, slowly raising his gaze. "It's only one night. I swear it, we all do."

"And the rain…" Larxene wrung her hands, somehow forcing her eyes to tear up. "Please, sir, just for the rest of tonight?"

The pitchfork wavered, then the point lowered a bit. Larxene added a sniffle, and Zexion hugged himself. "If… if you insist we leave," he said, drawing every aspect of his youthful appearance into use. "I… I suppose we'll have no choice but to risk falling ill… possible death from sickness is better than certain death by stabbing…"

Larxene _whimpered_ , the sound so unfeigned and miserable, that Vexen swore she wasn't faking it. "But I don't want to leave, I don't want to go outside… _please_ sir, let us stay…"

"…look…" The man glanced over his shoulder and raked a hand through his hair. "Fine, put out th' bloody foire, an' I'll ferget I saw yeh."

Zexion raised utterly grateful eyes to their "savior". "Thank you, sir. Oh, thank you…"

"If only we had some way to repay you," Larxene wiped tears away. "If only…"

"…not necessary, jus' don' tell anyone y'saw me if'n they catch y' in 'ere," he glanced around again. "…b'ain't 'bout t'leave no lady out in th' rain, anyways. Tain't roight."

"You're such a gentleman," Larxene cooed, settling herself back in the straw, looking pleased.

"Uh, roight y'are, ma'am, right gentleman Oi am," he tipped his hat to her, obviously on instinct, then adopted his severe tone again. "Remember, put tha' foire out!"

He shut the stall door, and Axel doused the flame with a tiny gesture. They waited until the sound of his footsteps receded, holding their breath. He didn't return, and no other footsteps sounded.

Axel started to snicker. Larxene picked it up, and soon the two neophytes were dissolved in laughter. The others looked less amused, but Marluxia _was_ smirking, as was Zexion.

"Well done," Vexen finally said, forcing his tensed shoulders to relax. "I thought we were back out in the rain for sure."

"Nah," Axel cracked his neck. "I'd have killed him before letting that happen."

"…why am I not surprised," Vexen muttered, settling himself back in the straw. He felt suddenly much less comfortable closing his eyes while the redhead was around.

"It didn't come to that," Zexion said, a touch sharply, moving closer to Lexaeus. "And it won't, ever."

"Heh." Axel settled back himself, though his eyes all but glowed in the dark. "Yeah, yeah. Sweet dreams, everyone."

 _I still hate him,_ Vexen thought to himself, as sleep dragged him back down.

Thankfully, he didn't dream.


	17. Chapter 016 – All that Glitters

Chapter: 016 – All that Glitters.  
Location: London  
Characters: Lexaeus, Marluxia, Vexen, Larxene, Axel, Zexion.  
Rating/Warnings: PG13 for some non-graphic violence  
Summary: The renegades get their first taste of London and decide to get down to business. 

**Chapter 016 : London – All that Glitters.**

* * *

They didn't dare remain in the stables once dawn broke, lest the stable hand came back with reinforcements. Axel had bitterly fought for the right to keep his plunder.

"What, you think people will see us and worry about a chair? Have you guys looked yourself in a mirror lately?"

In the end, Vexen threw up his hands in disgust and Axel triumphantly dragged the tiny chair out into the dawn. The cobbled streets glistened in the first morning light as they snuck out, but at least the rain had finally ceased. A bright sun was rising, illuminating the clock tower and glittering on the broad, calm river floating though the city.

It was so _big_. So _grand_. The narrow, winding streets seemed to go on forever, only to open up onto broad, paved avenues where black coaches streamed by, pulled by teams of horses. As the sun rose, people appeared from nowhere, filling the lanes and bumping into them as soon as they turned. The Nobodies wandered aimlessly though it all, eyes widening as they realized the scope of the place. Radiant Garden had not even been close. The City that Never Was… maybe. But that was a silent, dead mockery of a town, not bustling with life as this place.

"I'd prefer to use the word 'infested'." Zexion leaned on the railing, frowning at the mob streaming by. They had taken refuge from the throng on one of the bridges, where small balconies housing the lampposts lined the sides.

"I agree, but think of the possibilities." Vexen's look of disdain matched Zexion's. The stench, the packed crowd, the unwashed bodies… Darkness rife in every corner. "No one will ever find us in this place."

Marluxia, leaning over the railing and studying the dirty water beneath, frowned. "I hardly relish the thought of trying to fit in here."

"Too bad no one is asking you, then." Axel said, his legs almost under his chin as he perched on his chair. His long limbs unwound in a complex figure as he rose to his feet. "Shall we find something to eat today or what?"

"And new clothes!" Larxene piped in, waving her tattered sleeves. Axel looked around. While some women wore clothes even more worn and ripped than Number Twelve's, they were also to a woman dressed in long, concealing dresses, bonnets and scarves. "What, you wanna dress like that?"

"Don't be stupid."

In the shadow of the great clock tower they found palaces and cathedrals worthy of a king. Stone buildings reaching for the skies, green parks that stretched as far as they could see. The people here were better off as well, with clothes that were whole and new and sometimes made of silk or velvet. The women wore dresses that one shouldn't be able to walk in, great big skirts that made Axel snort with laughter.

"Look, their arses are as big as—" Vexen and Zexion hissed at him in irritation even as Marluxia stepped very purposefully on his foot. "Behave."

They drew enough glances as it was, often followed by frowns or wrinkled noses. Their torn robes and dishevelled hair were distinctly out of place here. Vexen self-consciously picked a piece of straw out of his hair.

"Let's try and find a jeweller."

Finding the workshops turned out to be easy; posh places lined the streets in this part of town, catering to the elegant customers filling the shops. Selling the diamond, however, turned out to be much harder.

"Do you think I am stupid?!" The first store owner accused, before shepherding them out of the door. "Out of my shop!"

"But sir, I insist…" The door slammed shut in Zexion's face. For a moment he looked ready to tear right though it, then Lexaeus' big hand came to rest on his shoulder. Irritated, he shook it off, turning to face the other with a scathing remark ready on his lips. The sight of Lexaeus' unreadable face brought him up short, though, and for a moment they just stood there staring at each other. Then Zexion shrugged, breaking the gaze. "His loss. Let us find somewhere else."

Lexaeus eyes followed him as he walked away.

The next place wasn't any better. "That's just a lump of glass!" The irate owner would have none of their assurances, and brusquely had the burly guard escort them to the street. As the apelike man grabbed Larxene's arm in a rough grip, Axel's chair hit his head with a resolute _thump_. The man folded to the street with a small sigh as the group made themselves scarce.

They slowed down a few blocks away, panting and leaning against a handy wall.

"Some quick thinking there, Axel." Zexion gasped out.

"Yeah. Too bad 'bout the chair, though," the other replied, looking sadly at the lone leg still remaining in his hand.

In the store after that, they were not even allowed to see the manager, and in the following the owner laughed at them as they presented their find. And this despite the fact that Axel and Larxene had been left out in the street, watched over by a seething Vexen.

Lexaeus' patience seemed to pay off by the fifth store. The manager carefully inspected the stone, turning it under his magnifying glass. The only other customer, a man in a slightly shabby black hat, patiently waited for his turn, watching the evaluation of their find with vague interest.

"This is a truly amazing stone…" The jeweller held it carefully, as if fearing it would break in half. His hands were shaking slightly. "We would, ah, of course be very interested…"

"Excellent." Lexaeus said, pleased, watching the stone catch the light of the sun though the window. Zexion and Marluxia stood silent behind him.

"A stone like this would of course require some investment. I need to discuss this with my shareholders. Can you come back next week?"

Zexion didn't like the gleam in the man's eyes one bit. He was a master of craft and deception, and recognized an amateur as soon as he saw one. Quietly, he reached out and placed a hand on Lexaeus' sleeve.

Despite everything, they still didn't need words. Lexaeus simply cast him a glance and nodded, thanking the owner for his time and plucking the diamond out of his shaking, unwilling hands.

The others waited outside, Vexen looking coiled tight as a spring after being left alone with the other two again. "Any success?"

Zexion shook his head. "No. He was smart enough to realize the stone was real, but not smart enough to refrain from trying to swindle us out of it."

"A pity." Vexen paced up the sidewalk, his body tense with irritation. "This isn't working. Either they don't believe us or they try and fool us. And I am done with babysitting those savages."

Lexaeus nodded. "You are right. Perhaps we should try and find a buyer either more gullible or more honest than those found here."

In the end, they found their way back in among the seedier looking neighbourhoods, where hard-eyed men watched them from the shadows and women with eyes harder yet called out lewd proposals from street corners. It was only Lexaeus' stony face and bulging arms that allowed them safe passage. Larxene eyed a few of the men with calculating eyes.

"Don't," Vexen told her as she thoughtfully studied a group of men that had just decided _not_ to block their path. "It won't bring us dinner any faster."

"But it would make me feel so much better." Smiling cutely, she girlishly tapped a finger against his nose. "You should let a girl have her fun sometimes, Vexen! It would make your life so much easier."

The Elder rubbed his nose, glaring daggers at her. "Let's move along, shall we?"

They had not even made it to the end of the street when a commotion burst out behind them. The gang of thugs had apparently found an easier victim. Only a shabby black hat could be seen of the man they had pushed up against the wall.

To everyone's surprise, Marluxia sprung into action. The would-be robbers didn't even notice he was there before two of them went flying from sweeping kicks from the assassin's feet, and soon the pink haired man had sent the rest of the attackers running with hands clutching broken noses and cracked ribs. The others watched in bemusement as he helped the victim struggle to his feet.

"Why," Larxene said with ire as the pair approached, "does he get to have fun and not _me_?"

"Wait… I recognize that man," Zexion said. "He was in that last store we visited."

"Yes." The man wheezed, pressing one hand over his no doubt bruised rib cage. "And I am very grateful for your timely interference just now. Please, allow me to introduce myself. The name is Wells. Fredrick Wells. Of South Africa."

He offered his hand and Lexaeus shook it, with some hesitation. "A pleasure, Mr. Wells. What can I do for you?"

"I must admit, I followed you from Mr. Devon's workshop. Please forgive my rudeness, but I could not help but overhear…" The man dropped his voice. "I understand you have something to sell. I am in… the mining business. May I treat you to a drink?"

The prospect of nutrition, even in liquid form, made them all perk their ears. Lexaeus glanced at Zexion, who nodded. "Of course. My name is Lexaeus."

"Great! Perhaps we should retreat to move savoury streets, then, Mr… Aeus."

The pub they ended up in was dark and smoky and the beer, frankly, was awful. Not even Vexen complained, though, too busy inspecting an abandoned specimen of what was apparently called a newspaper. They all sat nursing their tankards and watching in quiet admiration as Lexaeus and the man sparred, offers and refusals flying though the air like rapiers.

Wells had taken one long good look at the stone and swallowed thickly, carefully putting it down on the table. "It's real all right. How did you ever find a stone like this? No one has even been _close_ …"

Now the two of them sat with their heads close together and whispered quietly. Wells didn't have enough money to buy the diamond. Probably no one in this whole city did, apart from maybe that queen whose picture seemed to grace every wall from this pub to that of any jeweller they had visited. But he _did_ have money. Quite a lot of it. And, more importantly; he was willing to part with it now, without questions, and in cash.

In the end, Lexaeus offered his hand across the table and Wells shook it firmly, eyes shining.

The sun had started to sink towards the horizon as they exited the bank office, Lexaeus carrying a small, discrete bag in one hand. Wells was fidgeting with his receipts. The diamond had been left in the vault. It was no longer their concern to get it sold.

"A true pleasure to meet you, gentlemen and little lady," Wells said, sweeping of his hat and making a small bow. "I am leaving for Africa in the morning. I wish you a pleasant day."

Larxene tittered cutely and gave him a small curtsy. The others stared in disbelief. "As a last favour, Mr. Wells, could you direct us to a good hotel? We are quite tired."

"Ah." He smiled at her, delighted. "There are always good hotels around the railroad stations, miss. Big businesses, with baths, restaurants, even seamstresses…" His gaze lingered on their torn hems. "And quite discreet."

She blew him a kiss, and he tipped his hat one last time before disappearing up the street.

The receptionist of _Hotel Terminus_ did his best not to stare. In this line of work, you truly met all sorts. But the six loud, identically dressed guests in black leather coats would draw anyone's attention, truly they would. They had hesitated inside the door, whispering among themselves until the small man with the remarkably disgraceful hair had approached the reception. Even the bellhops had avoided them. Small wonder, all they had between them was one tiny little bag.

"We would like rooms," The short man announced, as his companions gathered around him.

"Ahhh… singles or shared, sir?" His gaze was drawn to the one woman among them, dressed in trousers – trousers! - and with all too short hair. What was going on here? "Or perhaps a double room for you and your wife?"

"Wife?" The man blinked, but the lanky redhead had butted in. "'Scuse me, but the lady is not the squirt's missus. She's the sister of Vexen here," indicating the tall man next to him, who hissed in annoyance. The girl hissed too, and jabbed the redhead hard in the side.

"Shared will be fine," The first man said firmly.

"Gladly, sir. One room for five and one single." He named a sum and the man nodded as the large, imposing man stepped forwards and paid. Did they have all their possessions in that little bag?

He put on a rather strained smile and turned the lodger over for signing. Professional pride, that was the ticket. The manager might always be watching.

"Will you be staying with us for long, Mr… " - he exercised his skill in upside-down reading – Read?"

"No. We have urgent business for our… group to attend to."

The receptionist's eyes flickered uncertainly. Group? Some kind of Masonic lodge, perhaps? Or maybe… "Ahh… it is always nice to see God's word being spread among the people, sir." They must be American. No Englishman would ever conduct himself so. And he had heard about their queer communes they had over there. Scandalous, it was.

The guests looked at each other blankly, but the tall, blond gentleman - a quick check named him Mr. Frost - nodded briskly. "Yes! Yes. We are the… Truly United True Little Brothers And Sisters of the One and Only… True Faith. Er. And Everlasting Grace of the Merciful... God?"

Now it was the receptionist's time to stare blankly. The man coughed. "From Alabama."

Oh. He relaxed and nodded happily. Alabama. That explained it. "Well, I wish you a pleasant time at our humble establishment, good sirs and good lady. Here are your keys, and let me just call a bellhop to show you the way…"

The guests disappeared up the staircase and he allowed himself a quick shake of the head. They did some strange things over there in the Americas. Those things they said about Alabama were apparently not even half the truth! _Pink_ hair? Deuced odd!

"Alabama?" Lexaeus asked Vexen as the door closed behind the servant boy. "Wherever did you get that from?"

Vexen looked smug. "Didn't you see those newspapers? They are _everywhere_ here. I spent some time studying while the rest of you drank your beer. Alabama is apparently a region far from here, and based on what I read the locals here will quite happily believe anything of it."

"Sounds like the place for us, then!" Axel commandeered the bottom bed in one of the bunk beds, throwing himself down on the covers.

Zexion and Lexaeus had quietly laid claim on the bunk bed in the corner, so Vexen sat down on the only remaining one. "And as for the rest… they appear to be quite preoccupied with religion here. It may work to our advantage."

"Religion? Light and Darkness and all that stuff?"

"It…. Seems so. In a highly ritualized symbolical form. I admit it has me rather confounded."

The small room they had been shown to held three bunk beds and a table in the middle. With the chest of drawers in one corner, carrying a washing basin and pitcher and surmounted by a mirror, it was almost cramped.

The door opened and Marluxia entered. In the face of the servant, no one had dared to object too loudly when he insisted to follow Larxene to her room. Now he eyed the humble furniture with distain. "Larxene has a room on the floor above. With, I might add, a rather more comfortable bed and assorted comforts."

"If you would like to spend our munny or soft pillows, think again." Vexen sneered. Marluxia opened his mouth to retort, but then caught sight on the munny Lexaeus just spilled out on the table.

"How much is there?" Most of it was in notes, small green papers, not the standard metal coins.

"It is hard to translate. Some things here are very cheap, others unusually expensive. But it is a lot of money indeed." There was just a hint of triumph in Lexaeus' voice. "Enough to sustain us for many months, if careful."

The door opened again, this time to allow Larxene to slip into the room. Beaming happily, she skipped up to the table and grabbed a handful of coins. "Pretty!"

Seeing Lexaeus unreadable face, she pouted and let them run though her fingers. "Ah, well. Maybe later. But tell me, Zexion… what charming names did you write in that book down there, 'Mr. Read'? I hope you picked a nice one for me!"

Zexion looked up from the small book he had found on the chest. "Mr. Read. Mr. Stone. Mr. Frost. Mr. Bracken. Mr. Fox –" Axel barked a short laugh – "And little miss Kink."

She laughed sweetly and gave him a twirling little bow. "Typecasting, Number Six. Hardly discreet."

"I believe we will be remembered for other things than our names, here." He replied.

"Too late to worry about that now." Vexen said. "At least we have aliases to use for the moment. We should get some sleep."

A yawn from Axel agreed with him. "But, hey – it's been a good day. Munny, food, a bed, that Wells bloke… Lady Luck is smiling at us."

And he was right, wasn't he? The others all nodded, lost in their own little worlds. The sun was setting outside, and well… it _had_ been a good day, hadn't it?

The sun had settled in a spectacular array of colours outside their window by the time they came back from the baths. Larxene had said goodnight in the hallway, skipping off to her luxurious privacy.

Marluxia mulled over the view over the rooftops, before smiling a wry smile and turning to face his dilemma. The others had already gone to bed. Zexion and Lexaeus first, in the furthest corner; he could hear their heavy breathing. Vexen had complained over the lack of nightshirts, muttering as he climbed down under the blankets. Odd how the man would always find something to complain about. Marluxia had turned his back out of courtesy. He did not want to admit to himself how his gaze had been drawn to the hazy reflection of the other in the window glass, the pale body starkly reflected against the dark walls.

Axel was a silent presence in the other bottom bed. And this, of course, presented Marluxia with the delicate problem…

Who did he want to risk exposing his unprotected back to in sleep? Vexen or Axel? The man he had ordered killed, or the man who had tried to kill him?

He could feel their gazes on him in the darkness. One icy cold, one burning hot.

To win time, he undressed slowly, draping robe and pants over a chair, leaving the boots neatly lined up on the floor. Who?

In the end, he climbed up the ladder by Vexen's bed. The man made no comment, and neither did he as he dug himself down under blankets and sheets.

He fell asleep quickly, lulled by the faint, clear smell of snow.


	18. Chapter 017 - Read All About It

Chapter: 017 - Read All About It  
Location: London  
Characters: Vexen, Marluxia, Larxene, Zexion, Axel, Lexaeus  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for a tad of swearing.  
Summary: Our heroes find themselves conducting a bit of cultural research and shopping for the bare necessities. Certain issues are addressed and others very carefully not.  
Author's Note: Yes, it is in fact _all_ those Londons at once. 

**Chapter 017 : London – Read All About It.**

* * *

" Vexen. _Vexen_. Wake up."  
He frowned in his sleep and rolled away from the hand on his shoulder. With a very muffled grumble he burrowed his face deeper into the blissfully comfortable pillow.  
" Go away, Marluxia. Let me sleep."  
There was a quiet chuckle.  
" I would, but you'll miss breakfast. Everyone else has already gone downstairs."

In the following three seconds Vexen realized three things.  
The first was that he was in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room on an unfamiliar world, and that all of his past life was lost to him forever. This is not a comfortable first insight in the morning.  
The second was that he was wearing next to nothing, and that during the night his blanket had migrated south to just barely cover what needed covering, leaving the greater part of him quite splendidly exposed for the world to see.  
The third was that it was _Marluxia_ standing next to his bed, shaking him.  
 _Like hell._

The Graceful Assassin stumbled back with a howl, clutching his hand to his chest in shock; in a split second it had frozen solid from fingertips to elbow.  
" Bastard! You fucking insane freak of a _bastard!_ "  
He couldn't remember having heard Marluxia swear quite so crudely ever before, nor with such a vehement mix of fury and panic. Snarling he wrapped his blanket around himself to preserve some of his sorely ragged dignity.  
" Don't you ever dare lay your hands on me again, you vicious little piece of filth! Get out!"  
Marluxia's eyes narrowed, dark and downright dangerous, but even he must have realized that with his right arm out of commission, getting into a brawl would be a profoundly stupid thing to do.  
" And what about this..?" he hissed, indicating his hand with a jerky nod. Despite the anger there was fear there; little wonder, to be permanently maimed would have dire consequences for a life on the run. He scoffed.  
" It'll thaw eventually, I imagine. Now get out."  
Marluxia shot him a final seething glare and stumbled towards the door, his arm still held protectively against his chest.  
" Just try not to bump into anything," he called after the man. " If things break off they usually won't grow back again."  
The look on the Assassin's suddenly very pale and green-tinted face made him feel much _much_ better about things. Perhaps not such a bad morning, after all.

"Wow. Remind me never to try to wake Vexen up without a really long stick to poke him with." Larxene stated after one look at his frost-covered sleeve.  
" I told you he wouldn't appreciate you waking him," Zexion reminded smugly, spreading quite a generous layer of jam on the warm, dry bread they had been presented with.  
Marluxia swore bitterly in response and sat down on an empty chair at the table. Axel grinned at him, but tried to curb his amusement in the face of his murderous glare.  
" Need help warming that up..?" he nobly offered.  
As much as he mistrusted the redhead, at the moment Marluxia was quite grateful for the offer. He couldn't feel his arm at all; it was just a dead heavy weight beneath his elbow, and the area where the living flesh met the ice ached and stung horribly. Before he could nod, however, Lexaeus gave him an impassive look.  
" Not a good idea. If the fluids heat up faster than the surrounding cell tissue you'll be left with less of an arm and more of a tube of goo. Leave it. Vexen usually knows what he's doing."

As though summoned by the speaking of his name the scientist appeared, looking quite rested and unusually cheerful. He took a seat next to Lexaeus and reached for an unclaimed teacup. If anything the silent fuming from the far corner of the table only seemed to heighten his spirits further.  
" Ah, proper breakfast, how very, very nice. Pass the sugar?"

" So what are the plans for today?" Larxene asked, showing her fifth scone she was a woman too-long deprived of good food and seriously meaning business.  
" We look around some more, get to know the territory," Zexion stated, nursing his cup of tea. " Depending on what this world has to offer we can decide how long we want to stay, and what things we'll need."  
" Yeah, about that," Axel intervened. " Didn't we decide to share everything, all brothers-in-arms kind of style? So why is Lex carrying the money? Shouldn't we split it?"  
Vexen gave him a cool look.  
" So you can run off with your share? It was _his_ diamond, after all."

" We _will_ hold the money collectively." Lexaeus calmly interrupted the impending argument before it started. " But it is wiser if I carry it. We still don't know the customs of this world, and in case of problems I am the least likely to get attacked. Or at least overcome."  
Axel snorted.  
" Right. So the money belongs to all of us, really, we just have to ask you real nice if we actually want to use it."  
" It makes sense to spend it carefully, " Vexen lectured, scooping enough sugar into his tea they half expected his teaspoon to stand by itself. " We're not likely to just stumble across another diamond."

Axel shrugged.  
" We can always rob someone."  
Zexion sighed.  
" No, Axel. Keeping a low profile means _not_ killing random passers-by in the street for half-munnies. Didn't you hear those newspaper boys hollering about grisly murders yesterday? We'd rather not end up on the front page of one of those things."  
" We should get some of those papers, " Marluxia pointed out, abandoning his quiet sulk to join the conversation as feeling was slowly returning to his arm. " They seem to cover most of what is going on and should give us information about this world we might not get from just aimlessly walking the streets."  
" I'm sure none of us would want to see you walking the streets, Marluxia, " Axel jeered. The Assassin studiously ignored him.

" Good thinking," Zexion reluctantly agreed. " We'll get some papers, have a look around and shop for bare necessities. We can make long-term plans when we know a bit more."

They nodded in various degrees of agreement, then went back to the much more important task of eating breakfast.

" Good grief, it's like a whole city of Luxords," Larxene said a few hours later. After having become acquainted with the immediate neighbourhood they had ended up with a hoard of newspapers in one of the parks.  
Zexion looked up over the edge of one of the papers, then turned to his fellow elders.  
" Could be, I suppose. Did any of you look into Ten's background when he joined, do you remember?"  
Vexen shrugged without looking up from his own subject of study, one of the cheaper half-penny newspapers.  
" Not me."  
" Is it important?" Lexaeus asked.  
Zexion shook his head and went back to reading.  
" No. I suppose it isn't."

Axel leaned against a nearby tree, looking bored and restless.  
" So, have you found anything of use yet?"  
Marluxia closed his newspaper, folding it neatly and placing it in his lap.  
" Not as much as I had hoped. Mostly gossip and the petty little problems of petty little people."  
Zexion put aside his own paper to give the paper-less of the group a short summary.  
" The big thing seems to be a rather messy series of murders by someone dubbed The Ripper. Aside from that it's mostly reports on scientific expeditions gone missing; some man and his daughter went to study monkeys but weren't heard from again, some other expedition looking for a legendary sunken civilization has been missing for weeks, and a sea monster-hunt went awry when the sea monster in question sunk the ship."  
He glanced at the nearest headline.  
"As for local news, the big clock tower's mechanism was sabotaged recently, supposedly from mice getting into the machinery, although some witnesses swear they saw some children, hah, _flying_ away from there – that version was in your paper, Vexen. Along with, I might add, stories from foreign parts about a wooden puppet coming alive and a dragon being used for a lighthouse. I really don't think that one is very trustworthy."

" We don't know this world, " Vexen said defensively. " Perhaps flying people and dragons are common occurrences here. Anything will seem odd if it's unfamiliar."  
" I saw a lady talk to her umbrella a few blocks away, " Axel volunteered. " That's odd no matter how you look at it."  
They considered this in silence.

" Yeah well, whatever," Larxene said, amusing herself by ripping out grass and throwing it at the Elders' boots. " That's not very helpful. Should we go shopping or not?"  
" Yeah, I'm hungry, "Axel agreed, pushing away from his tree. " We need to go get food."  
" I need new clothes!" Larxene hastily added.  
" And we should buy nightshirts," Vexen cut in.  
" New underwear," Marluxia said with fierce determination.  
" And more potions," Zexion counted off on his fingers.  
" And I need a decent hairbrush. My _own_ hairbrush. I hate getting bits of Vexen's hair tangled in my own 'cuz he can't clean the comb when he's done with it."  
" Hmph!"  
" Well, Axel, I do think potions are more important than your hair."  
" Yeah? You could use one yourself, Zex, you look like a neglected schnauzer."  
" Clothes!"

" We should only get the bare necessities for now," Lexaeus interrupted them. "Until we have decided how long we will stay here, and where we're going next it will do us no good to spend munny on things we may end up not needing."

" Yeah, well," Larxene hissed, shooting to her feet and waving her tattered sleeves in the Silent Hero's face, " I say new clothes are _damned_ necessary! I'd like to see what you'll all eat if I freeze my hands off and can't hunt anymore! You keep going on about how we should all help each other and how the munny belongs to all of us, but it's all just talk! I look like a scarecrow, my coat is ruined, my hands are cold and _I need new clothes!_ "

Lexaeus slowly stood, towering over the small woman and gave her a steady look. She was angry enough to stand her ground, even though it was a lot harder to wave her hands in his face when said face was several feet above her head.

" Yes," he said.  
" Yeah? Don't think you can call all the shots just because you're bigger and badder than everyone else! You keep saying how we're supposed to be a team now, and-... wait, what?"  
" I said yes," he calmly repeated, though there was a rare quirk of amusement at the corners of his mouth at her baffled expression. " You're right. You do need new clothes. We should see about acquiring such now that shops and tailors are easily accessible."

She gaped up at him, all momentum lost, obviously taken aback with getting her way without a fight. She slowly lowered her arms and gave him a suspicious look.  
" You're serious, right?"  
" Of course."  
" Go get yourself something pretty, Princess, and Daddy'll pay," Axel said in a rather bad imitation of Lexaeus' gravelly voice, then howled as an offhand spark of electricity exploded off of his nose.  
" Shut up, Axel," Larxene said, gone from furious to pleased as a kitten in seconds. She gave Lexaeus' massive chest a few friendly pats. " We've got some serious shopping to do."

Zexion crossed his arms and gave the young woman a poisonous look.  
" Well. That works, I suppose. We can get the other clothes we need at the same time. Good thinking."

The others stood from their respective perches, Vexen fastidiously collecting the pile of newspapers for potential further studies.

" Don't look now," Axel said to Zexion in a loud whisper as Larxene sweetly hooked her arm around Lexaeus' massive one, " but I think little Miss Kink is making moves on your man."  
" Shut up Axel," Zexion growled, shoving the redhead out of his way with a little more force than strictly necessary.

With the glorious prospect of clean underwear before them, the ragged crew left the park.

The most respectable Madame Dawning had a bad feeling the moment the oddly dressed group entered her equally respectable establishment. Not only did most of them seem to be _male_ , but in several cases this was a rather ambiguous categorization. Utterly immoral, if you asked her.

" Hey," the young blond boy who upon closer inspection turned out to be a young woman said, looking around. " You sell clothes here?"  
The Madame shuddered as the scruffy red-haired one poked at a displayed drape of fine textiles with his none-too clean gloves.

" If you would _please_ not touch anything, good sir. I do believe perhaps you have come to the wrong place."  
The girl gave her a questioning look.  
" You _don't_ sell clothes? It said Women's Tailor's Shop on the sign."  
" Well, young... lady, this is a very fashionable establishment. I do believe people of your... financial stature would be better off visiting a... " she hesitated, as though the word she was looking for had a rather unpleasant taste," ...a department store. They will have ready-to-wear clothing there, at a price you might afford."

One of the ambiguous males stepped forward, blue eyes flashing under his quite unkept and very oddly-coloured hair.  
" Are you insinuating us to be simple beggars, noble lady? Surely that is no way for a... fashionable establishment to welcome their customers."  
He spat the words, suppressed anger apparent in his voice. At least this one had the bearing of an aristocrat, despite his odd hair and somewhat ragged appearance. Perhaps she _had_ been mistaken?  
" Oops," the red-haired one said as his poking made part of the elegant mannequin by the door fall off.  
Then again, perhaps not.

A very short man, seemingly young but already grey-haired stepped forward with an inaudible sigh.  
" Please excuse my travelling companions, lady. We have come a long way and our journey has been a trying one. As is painfully apparent our rather... spirited little sister is in dire need of proper clothing. Money is not an issue."

Travellers? That would explain a lot, both their odd appearances and... even more odd mannerisms.  
" We're from Alabama?" another of the ambiguous figures tentatively interjected, his voice surprisingly establishing him a man rather than the middle-aged woman she had first taken him for.  
Well. _Alabama_. Little wonder, then. Everyone knew Americans did things rather differently. And besides...  
 _Money is not an issue._  
She forced a tight saccharine smile upon her lips.

" We are of course honoured to help a traveller in need. What can we do for you, young lady?"

The boyish girl raised her eyebrows but shrugged and seemed willing to let the past few minutes' _lamentable_ misunderstandings pass without comment.

" To start with I need my coat fixed."  
She held up the horridly charred and torn sleeve of her uncivilized leather coat for inspection, and the Madame suppressed a slight shudder at the sight.  
" Ah... perhaps you might want to consider purchasing a new coat? We have some rather splendid grey wool cloth just in, much more fitting for a young lady..."  
As though anything _wouldn't_ be more fitting for a young lady, the girl was wearing men's clothing, trousers and that horridly unfashionable leather coat...

The young woman shook her head.  
" I like my coat. I just want it fixed. You telling me your 'fashionable establishment' can't do that?"  
That was a very unladylike grin the girl was sporting, not polite in the slightest.  
" Well, it really is quite... damaged... But if you insist we will of course see what we can do. Perhaps if it is trimmed a bit, yes, here and here, and then a proper woollen jacket, I really must insist..."

As Larxene was ushered away for measuring and other arcane arts the five males found themselves left in a rather cramped space and the company of several people they did not much like, suddenly without personal space or distractions.

" So," Axel said, looking up at the ceiling with his hands behind his back. " Rather bad weather they have in this place."  
" Hm," Zexion agreed." Not as bad as in the forest."  
" True, true."

The rather heavy silence was filled with the odd smell of textiles and dust.  
Marluxia examined a length of displayed silk with rather forced feigned interest. Vexen picked up one of his newspapers, the rustle of pages quite loud in the silence.

" So where should we go for dinner?" Axel tried again.  
" Perhaps back to the hotel?" Lexaeus suggested.  
" We passed some restaurants and pubs on the way here, " Zexion added. " We'll have a look on the way back and see if we find something suitable."  
" Hm."

The silence descended again. Somewhere a clock was ticking.  
No screams of torture could be heard from behind the curtains, so Larxene must yet be satisfied with the customer service she was receiving.

" What was that she mentioned," Vexen said, not even pretending to read his paper anymore. " They have places here where they sell ready-made clothes to a fair price?"  
" Vexen, really, let go of the nightshirt-issue already," Axel muttered. " It's not as though anyone'd ever want to peek on _you_."

An angry blush spread across the scientist's cheeks.  
" It's a matter of principle! Depraved idiot."  
Marluxia determinedly busied himself with the silk again. Zexion sighed.  
" We'll check it out. We all need new clothes. You, too, Axel."  
The redhead shrugged.  
" Tell me about it. Even lacking my chair I could probably bludgeon people to death with my underwear by now."

Another very heavy silence fell as they digested the rather unwelcome mental images.

" Axel," Marluxia finally said, his tone even but somewhat strained. " Sometimes I really do believe you are the most crude, uncivilized and unpleasant person I have ever met. And in this company, that is saying quite a lot."  
" Yeah, well, you don't exactly smell like roses yourself," Axel muttered, then caught himself. " Or well, technically you _do_ , but that's not _all_ you're smelling of if you catch my drift."  
" Let's just change the subject, shall we, " Zexion said, resisting the urge to hide his face in his hands.

In the end they just drifted into the corners of the small shop, as far away from each other as possible, keeping quiet out of unspoken agreement.

As Larxene finally emerged again quite some time later the relief in the room was all but tangible. She spread her arms and twirled around for inspection like a little girl.

" Well?"

They nodded in polite appreciation, having to admit she looked not only a lot more fashionable but also capable of blending in among the people of this world far better than before. What could be salvaged of her coat had been cut to a long vest, completed with a stylish little jacket with notably whole sleeves.  
" Not bad," Axel grinned, giving her a thumbs-up.  
" Charming, my dearest," Marluxia smiled with a minute bow.  
She smiled sweetly at them.  
" Why, thank you. Now you lot need to dress up or I shall be ashamed to be seen with you."

She laughed cruelly, but the usual hard edge was somewhat softened by her obvious delight. Larxene in a genuinely good mood was something both refreshingly accommodating and quite frightening.

" But please, young miss, surely you will want one," the shopkeeper pleaded, hurrying after her and holding up an armful of different skirts for inspection, a slightly desperate tone to her voice.  
" For a lady to display her legs in public like so, it simply is not _done_!"

Larxene smiled toothily and patted the poor woman's hand.  
" This'll be just fine, thank you. Pay the woman, Lex darling."

To his credit Lexaeus' face remained as impassive as ever as he produced the odd paper-munny notes to pay the flustered woman.  
" Do try to behave," Zexion hissed darkly at the cheerful Nymph as they left the shop. " We don't need you to draw the attention of half the city because you can't keep yourself in line!"

Larxene gave him a wicked little smile and leaned close to whisper teasingly into his ear.

" Don't worry, dear Mr. Read. I'm not stealing him away from you. It's just this thing called having fun."  
She patted his cheek all but condescendingly.  
" You should try it some time."

" I fear," Vexen said to no-one in particular as they followed the self-appointed Lady back towards the hotel, " that we may have created a monster."  
" Well," Axel said helpfully, " That's something you should be familiar with, isn't it?"  
" Heartless and replicas, Axel. It's not nearly the same thing."  
" Oh come on, Vexen, are you telling me you've never created a monster?"

Vexen cast one glance at the savage little blonde ahead.  
" Never one quite like that. There are... some dark depths best left unexplored."

Axel followed his gaze, then nodded slowly.  
" You know, you may be right."

Behind them Zexion and Lexaeus walked in silence, a silence once companionable but now laden heavy with so many words unsaid it hung like an unbreachable barrier between them.

And on their way back they all did stop at a department store to buy fresh underwear and, much to Marluxia's well-hidden disappointment, nightshirts.


	19. Chapter 018 – Teatime

Chapter: 018 – Teatime.  
Location: London  
Characters: Zexion, Marluixia, Lexaeus, Axel, Larxene  
Rating/Warnings: PG/None  
Summary: The English have a delightful tradition of Afternoon tea. Zexion is very pleased, and in order to keep it from being a _total_ waste of time, the others discuss plans. 

**Chapter 018: London – Teatime.**

* * *

Zexion had been absolutely _delighted_ to find that it was a staple of this world to take tea every day at four o'clock. It was close enough to the habit he and Lexaeus had had in The Castle that Never Was and Oblivion to put the diminutive Nobody in a surprisingly good mood.

And because of that, the others found themselves press-ganged into sitting around a small table, with tiny teacups and even tinier biscuits.

"When in Rome, I suppose," Marluxia had said, with a long-suffering sigh, taking the teacup in both hands. Vexen simply nodded, looking at his own cup, distantly remembering other times like this, in another place, another world, in what seemed like another lifetime. He could almost remember the taste of that tea, and the surprise he had felt when Marluxia had offered it.

It had not been expected. Nor, at the time, welcome.

"I hate tea," Larxene muttered, with a wary look around. She wasn't stupid enough to say such a thing in front of the natives.

"Yeah," Axel agreed, discreetly evaporating his, long fingers rubbing the side of the cup. "Same here."

"You uncultured heathens have no taste," Zexion said, sipping the tea with a pleased sound. Even Lexaeus appeared to enjoy this, the tiny cup dwarfed in his massive hand.

"While I agree that tea is a delicacy," Marluxia mused, putting his cup down, "this is among the poorer teas I've encountered. Now, Jasmine tea, that is truly delicious."

Zexion snorted, adding a sugar cube to his fresh cup and stirring. "Nonsense. Earl Gray is _the_ premiere tea."

"And I thought _they_ were uncultured," Marluxia jerked his chin towards Axel and Larxene, who were trading cups, so Axel could evaporate hers as well. "But really. To insinuate that green tea is in _any_ way less palatable-"

"It's downright _foul_ ," Zexion's eyes flashed, and he looked up over the rim of his teacup. "Bitter and _tasteless_."

Marluxia's jaw actually _dropped_ , his eyes widening in a clearly shocked expression. That must have been a very low blow. "Tasteless! This slop is tasteless- this is weak, flavorless, disgusting…"

"You simply can't handle a well-brewed cup of tea," Zexion retorted. People were beginning to stare.

"Your opinions on tea mark you as a less-civilized being," Marluxia sniped, eyes narrowing.

"Just because _you_ prefer a _vastly inferior_ tea," Zexion began, but Axel cut him off.

"Look, as fascinating as an argument about _tea_ between the two of you would be, we've got better things to discuss. Right?"

Vexen stirred from his own thoughts of green tea and blue eyes, and looked up. "As… loath as I am to agree with Axel, he's right." He put his own half-drunk tea aside, steepling his fingers. "We are in a city now; a major metropolis, I might say. This poses an entirely new set of questions."

"I think we should just _stay here_ ," Larxene said quickly. "It's a huge city, we can be inconspicuous…"

There was a long pause, as they reflected back on the very strange looks the servers had given them when they'd sat down. They looked between Axel's fiery hair and facial tattoos, to Zexion's oddly-colored hair, then at Marluxia's even stranger appearance.

"…inconspicuous. Right." Axel rubbed his forehead.

"That won't work," Zexion sighed, putting his own teacup down. "We should keep moving."

"Can't we stay here for a time, at least?" Marluxia's fingers danced over the rim of his cup. "Surely, after so long in the wilderness, no one is searching for us anymore."

"That isn't a bet _I'd_ be willing to take," Vexen began, shaking his head.

"Well, a week or two wouldn't hurt, I don't think," Zexion mused. "Perhaps even a month. We need some time in civilization, I think. It would do us good."

"Seduced by tea," Vexen muttered under his breath, causing Axel to choke and snort to cover an explosion of laughter.

Zexion pretended not to notice, pouring himself a third cup. "Now, what do you all say to that?"

"Between two and three weeks, I believe, is enough," Lexaeus rumbled.

"I want to stay longer. Or if we leave, we're _not_ going back to any stupid forest," Larxene sat back, crossing her arms, sulking.

"I'm inclined to agree with Lexaeus," Marluxia mused. "Two to three weeks would be sufficient time to recover our strength, rebuild our supplies, and relax for a while."

"I vote for a shorter stay," Vexen said immediately. "A single week, at most."

"Man, what the hell are _you_ running from?" Axel snorted. "Something different than the rest of us? I'm with the big guy- couple of weeks or so would be great."

"But where to from there?" Vexen, overruled, changed the subject. "We shouldn't use the portals again."

"Let's try that 'America' place," Axel said, grinning and winking at some young woman at a table nearby. She blushed and tittered, and was immediately scolded by a severe-looking woman in an uncomfortable outfit. "We'll fit right in there, huh?"

"Perhaps," Zexion mused, sipping his tea. "It's a decent enough hypothesis."

"Some of us still stick out here," Larxene scoffed, eyeing the others in their still-standard Organization clothes. "You should get more outfits that fit in with the time period. Those delightfully tight trousers, for example." And her gaze remained on Lexaeus for perhaps a little longer than strictly necessary.

"I agree with that," Marluxia nodded, sitting back. "It's an excellent idea."

"And in order to stick out less, perhaps some of you should adjust your appearances." Vexen suddenly smirked in a way that only happened when something extremely unpleasant was about to occur to someone else.

"…what do you mean?" Zexion said slowly, putting his cup down.

"Nothing too strenuous," the former Number Four remarked. "Perhaps a little bit of a haircut for you, Zexion. No one lets their hair simply _flop_ into their face like that here. And Axel, your own hair is far too _loud_. It needs to be cut, perhaps dyed itself. Your tattoos… well. We'll figure something out. And Marluxia…" His expression broke into a manic grin. "Why, how many rose-haired individuals do you see here?"

" _Over my dead body_ ," Axel snarled, drawing a few curious looks. Marluxia's expression was fixed in a horrible, frozen smile.

"Lower your voice, you flaming dolt," he said, eyes glaring death at Vexen even though his expression was still one of a polite smile. "Perhaps we should… _vote_ on just how we are to change our appearances."

"Of course, Marluxia," Vexen smiled, honeyed and full of venom. "But do remember, you only have half a vote."

"No way in hell," Axel said immediately. "I'm not changing, not my hair, never in a _million, trillion years_ , got it memorized?

"There's no need to go quite so far, I agree," Zexion was twisting his bangs around one finger in a distinctively nervous gesture. "After all, we _are_ Nobodies, and our appearances are part of what makes us _us_."

"I'd _love_ to see Axel with a buzz cut," Larxene smirked. "I'm all for it."

"Seconded," Vexen mused, still smirking.

"I'd prefer to remain the way I was, thank you very much," Marluxia said coldly. "I've no interest in dying my hair any shade."

Everyone turned to stare silently at Lexaeus. The large man blinked once, then calmly raised his cup to his lips and took a sip. "Hm."

"Lexaeus," Vexen started first. "Surely you see the truth in what I say."

"Be _reasonable_ ," Zexion broke in, and by that, everyone _knew_ he meant "If you want to have any sort of intimate relationship with me in the next twenty _years_ , you will _not_ vote against us."

"That's not fair," Larxene pointed at Zexion. "You're not allowed to try and sway him with underhanded tactics."

"Shut up, aren't you supposed to be on _my_ side?" Axel scowled, tugging nervously at his hair. "C'mon, big guy, you wouldn't do that to us, right? Right?"

Lexaeus' lips twitched briefly, and he raised the cup for another sip. "Hm."

"Shut up, Axel," Marluxia's eyes flicked to Vexen, who was still looking unbearably smug. "Let him decide for himself."

"We must decide what's for the good of the group, obviously," Vexen added, looking back at Lexaeus. "Don't you agree?"

"Indeed," Lexaeus rumbled, eyes flicking to Zexion, who was staring at him levelly. "Which is why I am inclined to agree with Zexion. As Nobodies, we rely heavily on routine and appearance. Being cast out of Oblivion and unable to return to Never Was, I do believe we should alter as little as possible about ourselves, unless it becomes absolutely and utterly necessary."

"Bah, humbug," Larxene crossed her arms and sulked. "I never get to have any fun."

Axel relaxed and flopped back in his chair, grinning ear-to-ear. "Owe you for that one, man." He glanced at Zexion, then tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. He wasn't stupid- he knew that, had Zexion _not_ been included in the list, Lexaeus' vote would have been cast against him immediately.

The Silent Hero didn't give a damn if Axel was changed by this.

 _Heh. Can't suppose I blame him too much._

"However," Lexaeus continued, "a change of clothes may be a good idea. At least for a while. No one's to say we cannot retain our coats and boots for a later date."

"He has a good point," Marluxia conceded. "We should all consider that."

"I think I'd look pretty damn good in a top hat, huh?" Axel was grinning. "Or how about you, Marluxia? Think you'll find one that fits?"

The Assassin gave him a sour look and pushed his tea away. "Well. Teatime is over, gentlemen and lady. I believe we have other things we should be doing now."

"Yeah, yeah…" Axel rose to his feet gracefully, looking around some. "Man. This place needs some livening up someday," he muttered to himself, heading for the door.

 _Heh. Maybe right before we leave, I can have some fun or somethin'. Don't wanna get soft, now. That'll never do._

Grinning over his shoulder at the other Nobodies as they, too, stood, he pocketed his hands and wandered out after Marluxia.


	20. Chapter 018-5 – Witch Way

Chapter: 018.5 – Witch Way  
Location: London  
Characters: Vexen, Axel, Larxene, Marluxia, Zexion, Lexaeus  
Rating/Warnings: G/None  
Summary: Remember "The Magician's Nephew"? If not, well, remember the White Witch from "The Chronicles of Narnia"? Enjoy.  
Author's Note: Just a bit of an extra chapter, as we're having a bit of a time with the upcoming chapter 019. 

**Chapter 018.5: London – Witch Way.**

* * *

Leaving the Terminus, the group took a brief moment to pause further down the street, gather their bearings (it was still somewhat unusual to see _buildings_ instead of trees everywhere) and to discuss the possibilities of finding a decent place to have dinner.

However, the relative peace of the street was shattered by screams, and the sound of frantic hoofbeats and the banging of a carriage, drawing ever closer. Lexaeus immediately put himself between Zexion and the street. Weapons were forming in hands, even as the carriage exploded into view.

Standing astride the box seat at the front, one hand on the reins, a pale and terrible woman stood, blond hair streaming behind her, eyes full of rage and murderous glee as she wielded a whip, driving the carriage horse onward. The beast was terrified, seeking only to get _away_ from her, but thusly pulling the carriage and her with it. They thundered past, leaving the six Nobodies staring after her, blinking in shock. Hard on her heels came a veritable horde of policemen, blowing whistles, shouting, and waving their arms, all to no effect, really.

And behind her, drifted the faintest smell of snow.

Thankfully, the passers-by were so taken with the sight that had just exploded past, they took no notice of the six odd-looking people who were quickly dismissing shields, scythes and chakrams.

"Well," Axel was the first to speak. "There's something you don't see every day. Unless you're _us_."

"That woman," Vexen's chin was in his hand, his brow furrowed. "Something about her… something…"

"Uh-oh," Larxene smirked, leaning closer. "Vexen seems a bit smitten, doesn't he? Has the Chilly Academic's icy heart finally thawed?" She found this to be too amusing, and burst into giggles.

"Shut up, Larxene!" Vexen, distracted from his thoughts, turned on her. He missed Marluxia's deep frown and piercing look.

Zexion brushed himself off, refusing to meet Lexaeus' gaze. "Is everyone unharmed?"

"Of course," Marluxia transferred his gaze to the smaller Nobody. "We were well away from the road."

"With the way that crazy bitch was driving, I don't think it would've made a difference," Axel put his hands behind his head. "So. What now, kiddies?"

"We should just _go back inside_ ," Vexen said firmly. "I think it's safer there, and we won't be _noticed_. We shall order dinner sent to our rooms from the kitchen at the hotel."

"Lazy old man," Larxene tossed her hair back. "Hmph."

The trip back into the hotel, was, thankfully, rather uneventful. As long as one kept one's eyes on the street, and didn't look up to see the umbrella-lady dancing on a rooftop with several chimney-sweeps.

This city was quite strange, after all.


	21. Chapter 019 - Ripped

Chapter: 019 - Ripped  
Location: London  
Characters: Larxene, Vexen, Marluxia, Axel, Zexion, Lexaeus  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for a tad of swearing and mentioning of prostitution and violence.  
Summary: Five Nobodies sharing one small room means a constant struggle to keep the peace. Meanwhile Larxene does London. Poor London. 

**Chapter 019 : London – Ripped.**

* * *

Night had fallen over London.

The afternoon's rain had finally ceased, thick fog rising from the river taking its place.  
It dampened all sound, the occasional far-off call of voices or clattering of hooves and wheels on cobblestones echoing distant and distorted.

A smaller dark figure furtively separated itself from the bulky black shape of a large house, and within seconds it had vanished into the foggy night.

It had been quite an easy thing to slip out of the hotel, the young woman concluded as she sauntered down the street.  
With a whole room all to herself and very convenient social rules preventing any of the men from checking in on her at any time she suddenly had all the freedom of movement she could wish for.

Granted, the oafs still had all the money, and even if they hadn't it probably wouldn't be too smart to leave the sorry lot for good just yet. Not until they were certain any possible pursuers were off their trail once and for all, anyway.  
That, however, didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the chance to spend some time on her own when it was so sweetly offered to her.

She _liked_ this world, despite the mandatory tea, highly suspicious food and stubbornly bad weather. The dark, elaborate buildings, eerie gaslights and shrouding mists lent such a pleasant _atmosphere_ to the place. Rich, tangible, _alive_ ; the very opposite of the deadening, unchanging expanses of Never Was or, for that matter, Castle Oblivion.

This world was dark, filthy and breathing.  
Monsters, mad geniuses and ruthless killers could be lurking in every shadow - and that wasn't even counting her usual traveling companions.  
A world quite civilized enough for intricate games, but just primitive enough for a touch of savagery.

Larxene rather liked savagery.

For the sake of everyone's mental, not to mention physical, health, a wary unspoken truce had been declared in the cramped hotel room. The space was small enough it would be difficult even for good friends to share it without getting in each others' way and grating on each others' nerves, and the five Nobodies currently inhabiting it weren't very friendly even under the best of circumstances.  
It was thus with near clinical precision that personal borders were drawn and perhaps more surprisingly, grudgingly respected.

Nonetheless, the silence once the lights were out was anything but comfortable. The darkness was tense with suspicion and enmity, no one wanting to be the first to close their eyes surrounded by former enemies and reluctant temporary allies.

It was curious, Vexen reflected, how the tension between them was somehow greater now than in the forest, as though all energy then had been focused on survival, mistrust aimed as much at unfamiliar surroundings as the known and familiar threats.  
But everything had been a blur of confusion then, everyone too much in shock at what had happened to risk actual fighting…  
 _Can Nobodies technically feel shock?_  
His analytical mind stored the question away for later.

Maybe it was just the current lack of space grating at them; at least the forest had been vast enough to grant an illusion of occasional privacy. In this claustrophobic city the proximity was choking, the traitors and murderers constantly so close their presence itched under his skin; even now the faint but unmistakable scent of roses intruded on his half-sleep, slithering sweet and unwelcome into every breath he took.  
Uninvited, unwished-for… How very like Marluxia.

Closing his eyes he turned and buried his face in his pillow to escape the whisper of a flowery scent that should logically have been pleasant, but these days burned on his tongue far more bitter than sweet.

Light from a rather dirty moon, neither half nor full, made the fog glow slightly and glittered tiredly in the waters of the none-too clean river. Larxene sat perched on the railing of one of the bridges, resting after a disappointingly uneventful but nonetheless quite pleasant walk through the murkier parts of the city.

She probably should head back; the distant blurred glow of the clock-tower faces told her it was very late indeed. But freedom was a rare thing to be treasured, now every bit as much as during her time in the Organization, if not more so. Everyone in the cranky little crew was watching everyone else like hawks, just waiting for the inevitable betrayal.  
Paranoid sissies; you committed one lousy little bit of treason and they all reacted as though you'd stab them in he back at any given time.  
Such a stupid notion; honestly, why stab anyone in the back when you could stab them in the guts and watch the look in their eyes as you did it?

Then again, aside from the arrogance of the Elders, life on the run wasn't so bad. The forest had been, well, admittedly absolutely horrible, but this place quite made up for it.  
Less than ideal company aside, this venture promised to be quite entertaining; she knew for a fact there were _many_ more really interesting worlds out there, just waiting for her to happen to them.  
Even if the Elders could be insufferably stuffy and restrictive, they really were all bark and no bite these days, without the Organization to back them up. And it should not be forgotten dear Lexie had even kindly paid for her new clothes without hassle. Maybe he really _did_ believe in his happy all for one and one for all philosophy. It was so naïvely stupid it was really quite sweet.

She dangled her feet over the edge of the bridge and looked unseeingly into the foggy night.  
It suited her purposes well enough to tag along with them all for now. Depending on how things turned she might have reason to abandon them or even dispose of them later, but right now she felt more free and alive than she had since those first blazing moments of crackling, powerful _glorious_ heartlessness.  
She hadn't lost anything she wasn't all too happy to leave behind on that day of darkness, but gained so very, very much. Power, for one thing, the delightful intoxicating power to easily take any life at will, paired with the decay of morals to do it utterly without remorse.

She smiled thinly.  
Power and ageless beauty, what more could a girl wish for? What innocent eyes and a sweet smile wouldn't get her, the power to tear the very skies asunder would.  
And should sweetness and powers both fail her, well. Girl's got brains. That was the part everyone, even her associates from Oblivion with the possible exception of Marluxia, tended to overlook.  
Her smile widened somewhat.

It was an intriguing thing, she'd found, that the more clever a man was, the less inclined he was to recognize that same intelligence in a young woman. So far the innate arrogance of the opposite sex had worked well to her advantage, and she saw no reason to enlighten them just quite yet.

Look them in the eyes and stab them in the guts.  
Possibly, when the time was right. Or then, possibly not.

The thing with power, she thought as she swung her legs over the railing to begin the walk back home, was that sometimes having it and _not_ using it was the most intoxicating thrill of all.

Bleak moonlight filtered through the not entirely clean little window, painting a bright square on the grubby carpet but leaving all the beds in darkness.  
The room was filled not with the peaceful silence of five people asleep, but the unnatural quiet of five people all stiffly trying to remain silent hoping that the other four will fall asleep first.

In the end it was broken by a disembodied hushed voice, its usual deep smoothness slightly strained.

" Vexen..?"

The scientist's linens rustled slightly as he moved, clearly awake and equally clearly reluctant to answer any call of the Assassin's. Finally he growled a short reply.

" What."

The silence gradually changed into the silence of three people listening in on a private conversation while all pretending to be asleep.

" It's… getting rather cold up here. _Very_ cold. If you would happen to have something to do with it, could you please stop?"

By now they were all rather familiar with the sound of molars grinding in frustration and in the dark the sound seemed unnaturally loud.

" No-one is forcing you to sleep up there. Get another blanket if you're cold. It's hardly my problem."

" Yeah, Marluxia," a lazy voice interjected, " If you feel cold up there I have a nice and cozy bed free over here. I can _guarantee_ you wouldn't be cold at _all_."  
A rather unpleasant chuckle followed the invitation.

" Over my dead body."  
The words sounded ground out between clenched teeth, frosty enough to match the temperature the Assassin had just been complaining about.

" You're welcome to him," a resentful voice muttered near inaudibly from the darkness of Vexen's bed, although to whom it was directed was unclear.

" Just trying to help," Axel said, and even in the darkness the predatory grin could somehow be heard.  
An offended huff sounded from the upper bunk of the middle bed.

" How very noble of you. I'm sure that won't be necessary; if _certain people_ could just keep their little elemental outbursts a bit more in check we could all get some much-needed sleep."

" I'm sure 'certain people' _would_ , if certain _other_ people would stop smelling like a cheap bordello while 'certain people' tried to sleep!"

There was a moment of utter silence.  
Then simultaneously;  
" And just _what_ are you implying..?"  
" Why, _Vexen_ , I never would have thought you the type! Was it any good? And how cheap was 'cheap'..?"

" Just shut up, both of you. Just… shut up."  
A rustle much like a blanket being demonstratively pulled over someone's head.

" No, no, no." Marluxia sounded thoroughly offended now. " I think we should sort this out. Are you freezing my bed because you have a problem with how I _smell_..?"

" And you got new underwear and everything…"  
" Shut up, Axel! Well? Vexen..?"

There was a long-suffering sigh from the smaller inhabitant of one of the two beds in the remaining quiet corner.

" If you are uncomfortable in your bed, Marluxia, you can always sleep on the floor."  
Lexaeus' unmistakable hoarse whisper of a voice put a very definite end to the argument.

Suddenly unsure of whether the filthy carpet might hide a stone floor, and not at all wanting to find out the hard way, Marluxia grudgingly decided cold was the lesser of three evils and burrowed deeper into his blanket.

The moon-lit square on the floor had moved quite a long way before the Nobodies in the dark room finally settled down enough to yield to sleep.

She was almost halfway back to the hotel when she realized she was being followed.  
Even though the thick fog made it impossible to see more than a few yards in any direction, there was an odd echo to her footsteps, slightly out of sync.  
Interesting.

Walking through the rather dark and narrow streets, often unlit by the usual gaslights, had confirmed her inkling that this was a rather saucy area; for a place named after a color of chastity and a place of worship, it certainly seemed to deal with quite a lot of sin.  
But then, of course, any other sort of place would be boring.  
She grinned.

So someone had spotted a young woman out and about on her own and come to certain conclusions, had they? The poor misguided soul was soon to realize the Savage Nymph's definition of fun differed vastly from that of most nymphs of the more local and negotiable variety.

She slowed down and halted, striking a demurely suggestive pose, patiently waiting for her pursuer to catch up. For a few moments the gloomy street laid silent, then the sound of footsteps resumed and the mists swirled aside to reveal an imposing dark figure, the dark cloak-like coat billowing most dramatically.

Once the man was close enough for her to discern his features more clearly she gave him a critical assessment.  
Middle-aged, stylish dark cloak and hat, a trace of classy cologne… Quite a gentleman from the look of it. Guy didn't look half bad, she conceded, quite a bit cleaner and more well-dressed than most thugs she'd seen around these streets so far.  
Maybe a bit of good old fashioned fun wouldn't hurt after all; gods knew her current travelling companions didn't exactly go out of their way to keep a woman satisfied. She smiled shyly and widened her eyes for that perfected look of utter innocence.

" Gosh, you frightened me, mister!" she breathed, possibly heaving her bosom just a little bit as she spoke. " I didn't hear you coming!"

" Now what could a young girl like yourself be doing out alone at this late hour?" the man inquired, his voice quite pleasant and refined, and suddenly she felt the hairs on her neck stand up in warning. Even though there was a slight smile on his lips the look in his eyes was much too clinical, not at all the bleary one-tracked gaze of a man aroused. It was cold, detached, scrutinizing, as though she was a curious but inferior specimen to be studied; it reminded her of Vexen in his most enthusiastic experimenting mood and that in itself was reason enough for instant dislike.

She upped the stakes by widening her eyes even further, laughing breathlessly.  
" I'm just looking for my way home, good sir. Oh, you really mustn't think I'm… _that_ kind of girl!"  
She leaned forward a bit to grant a good view of her cleavage. Sure enough, for all his refined detachment his eyes flickered downwards for a moment. Ah, men, so delightfully predictable.

" Perhaps then I could have the pleasure of… escorting you? Where do you live?"  
She made a vague gesture which incidentally made parts of her anatomy shift in interesting ways.  
" I'm not sure which way it is. I don't know my way around the city all that well yet, I only came here a little while ago. Oh, it would be _ever_ so kind of you to make me company…"

He nodded absently, giving her that infuriating scrutinizing bug-in-a-jar look again.  
" A newcomer in London should be careful walking these streets, young miss. This is a wicked part of town. Perhaps you had better come with me for tonight, and I will help you look for your accommodations in daylight come morning?"  
 _Sure you will._

Somehow it was always even more fun playing with the kind of people who really had it coming. Breaking naïve little porcelain dolls like Naminé or Sora could be fun enough, but beating an obvious real conniving bastard at their own game was so much more satisfying. Some people just gave villains a bad name. Amateurs.

She fired him her most brilliant smile.

" I would like that very much, kind sir! Oh, you're ever so kind."

Clinging sweetly to his proffered arm she absently wondered if there was really a house down the line or if he'd just find a somewhat more secluded area before trying to ravage or kill her, or both.  
Trying being the operative word.

The night was certainly looking up.

In the dark room wariness had finally given way to sleep, soft even breathing the only sound to be heard.

Pale as a ghost in the bleak moonlight one man dreamed of fire, pain and terror, tossing restlessly, tousled colorless hair spilling over the pillows.

In the shadows above another dreamed of all-important goals burning bright, then fading to nothingness just beyond his reach, of power and precious things lost, and of vain sacrifices, but never remorse, never that. And then the very earth beneath him shuddered and opened up to devour him whole, but that was a different dream entirely and one he did not much want to dream.

A third man dreamed of living shadows dancing to their own tune, not his, of illusions faltering and fading, uncomfortable truths laid mercilessly bare.

One man slept silently, dreaming silent, solemn dreams of failure where it had mattered the most, of having been forced to leave someone important unprotected behind, and of the cold and utterly unexpected pain of death. And, because even he was not immune to the irony of certain things, that small sting of annoyance at the _indignity_ of it all.

In the final bed a man slept and dreamed of warm sunlight, delicious salt-sweetness on his lips and of blue eyes speckled gold by a forever setting sun. And even though the memory was a happy one, there was an ache inside even in sleep, a hollow emptiness where at least _something_ , if not a heart had once been.

" You have a rather peculiar accent," her dark and mysterious companion said as they walked down a convenient dark, narrow alley. " Where might you be from, originally?"

Ah, now what was the name of that place Vexen kept referring to, the one everyone seemed ready to believe they were from? A… something.

" Oh. Uhm. Very far away, I don't think you've heard of it."  
" Oh, don't be too sure, little miss, I am quite well versed in geography."  
 _Well, crap._

" With your fair hair and complexion, I would guess perhaps Scandinavia? I once knew a woman from there, Liz, very charming. Our time together was… much too brief. Alas."  
" Oh? Oh. Right. From there, yes. That's right. So, where are we going?"

" It's not far now. So are you here in London on your own? Or will someone worry that you… spend the night away?"  
 _Any time now._

" Oh no, " she chirped, " They won't be looking for me until morning."

" In that case," he said, stopping and turning to face her, " perhaps we can end this act right here and now."

She smiled beatifically.  
" I think you're absolutely right. Time for business, yes?"

He raised his eyebrows slightly at her eagerness, shadowed features suddenly frozen hard and ruthless.  
" Indeed. Always so eager to haggle over pennies, you diseased harlots."  
His voice had gone cold, dripping of disgust and scorn.

" Even losing your skirts now, walking the streets without shame, showing your legs like some French dancing Jezebel? Your kind is a filth, a sickness to this city."

He advanced on her, looming, dark, eyes cold and burning at the same time.  
She chuckled and began unbuttoning her new jacket. It wouldn't do to get it stained, after all.

" Oh my, is that a whiff of sour grapes I detect? I think someone hasn't had a decent fuck in a _long_ time."

He paused, then narrowed his eyes.

" Foul-mouthed whore. You will be screaming for mercy as I carve your rotting heart out."

She laughed out loud, she couldn't _help_ it, he was making it so _easy_ , and she hadn't had any proper fun in such a long time.

" Sorry, you're out of luck there. Will a kidney do? A spleen, perhaps?"

He was confused now, she could see the slightly panicked bewilderment in his eyes. Hers was not at all proper victim-behavior, and it seemed to throw him completely off balance. Amateur indeed.

He snarled and pulled out a small scalpel-like knife, holding it stiff-wristedly like a surgeon.  
" You call that a knife?" she giggled and easily danced out of the way as he slashed at her throat.

" _This_ ," she said, calling upon her lovely power, shooting forth a fan of razor sharp kunai between her fingers, picking one a random for the first throw," is a _knife_."

Look 'em in the eyes, stab 'em in the guts.

And having learned to humbly treasure the value of a human life, she indeed did spent quite a lot of time on the torture-bit before the killing-bit, to make sure she would not have to regret any lost chances.

The fog was thinning and the sky brightening slightly when Larxene finally climbed back through her window, but even lack of sleep aside she felt rather enlivened.

She had a feeling there wouldn't be any more of those grisly murders reported in the newspapers for some time to come. Why, that made her virtually a hero!

She grinned at the thought and undressed to get ready for bed, then dutifully washed her face and hands. When she was done she pursed her lips slightly, hesitated and finally poured the suspiciously pink water through the window to avoid annoying questions; the cleaning ladies at this place were far too nosey as it was.

Crawling into the blissfully comfortable bed, fair and sweet as any little angel, she closed her eyes and had the loveliest of dreams until morning.


	22. Chapter 020 – Shop 'til You Drop I

Chapter: 020 – Shop 'til You Drop I.  
Location: London  
Characters: Lexaeus, Marluxia, Vexen, Larxene, Axel, Zexion.  
Rating/Warnings: PG13 for some crude language.  
Summary: It's time to get some essentials. This is shopping for _men_. 

**Chapter 020 : London – Shop 'til You Drop I.**

* * *

Vexen had been sure to wake early this day; a small precaution. He emerged slowly from sleep, feeling the last remnants of fiery dreams disappear into the darkness. He was glad to see them go.  
Pale sunlight lit the room, but the others had not yet stirred. Deep, even breathing came from the bunk above him. He burrowed deeper under the blanket, snug and warm in his nightshirt.  
What to do now? He could rise, but the idea of undressing in front of all those beds was... unnerving. On the other hand, the others were almost certainly asleep. Nothing said they would remain so after he started moving around, though. The alternative was to once again remain in bed until last. It offered the chance to dress alone, but might also lead to being left alone with Marluxia. Again.  
 _Though I do not think him that stupid._.

The last thought made him smirk.

In the end, bodily demands made the choice for him. Flinging off the blankets, he quickly changed into pants and robe. Mindful of the standards of this world, he pulled the zipper all the way up. They really did need new clothing, if only to fit in better.  
He could feel the others stirring around him as he slipped out, boots in hand.

The others slowly joined him at the breakfast table, Larxene bright-eyed and positively radiant in her new clothes. _Imagine._.  
She was even smiling sweetly at the yawning and grouchy Axel, and not once zapping him under the table.

Zexion slowly sipped his tea. "We should do our shopping today. It would be prudent to be prepared for any eventuality."

The others all nodded. Vexen started to count on his fingers. "Potions, blankets, tarp, mugs, paper, pens... it's a long list. This world is dreadfully unpractical for practical commerce, finding it all will take all week."

"We should split up," Lexaeus said.

Vexen pulled a sour face. "You think so?"

"Well, we are hardly inconspicuous together. People stare."

"Good idea!" Larxene gushed, balancing on the edge of her chair. "I don't want to spend all day hunting for cheap socks with all of you guys hanging in my skirts."

Vexen studied his comrades for a second and sighed. "Fine."

"Absolutely not!"

Vexen, Lexaeus and Zexion stood huddled together in the street, in the midst of a heated discussion. "I will not, _not_ , spend any time alone in the company of those despicable cretins!" Vexen did not bother to keep his voice down.

"And I am not fond of the idea either." Zexion said. "Lexaeus, can't you just take them all?"

The Silent Hero shook his head. "Not all three at once. I fear that it might be a bit too much even for me. You two will have to stand at least one of them."

Axel made a rude sound. The three youngest had gathered sullenly by the doorway as the Elders argued over grouping, in loud and insulting detail.

Zexion sighed. "Very well. If we must."

"You will have to take that pink imbecile, then," Vexen grumbled, crossing his arms. Behind him, one of Marluxia's eyebrows twitched.

"It need not be that bad. I'll take Marluxia and Axel. Larxene shouldn't be too much trouble." The other two gave him disbelieving glances. He shrugged. "She was decently well-behaved yesterday."

Zexion and Vexen exchanged despairing looks even as the Nymph in question came skipping over, giggling cutely and brushing closely past Lexaeus' side. "Oh, that sounds _wonderful_ Lexie! Unless of course Zexion rather sees I spend the whole day with _you_?"

Vexen threw up his hands in disgust. "Fine, again!"

It took rather a lot of determined haggling for Zexion to get Lexaeus to part with a decently fat purse for their part of the shopping venture. Vexen fished a notebook out from his pocket, happily writing down a quick list each for both groups and pressing one page into Lexaeus hands. "Remember; clothing, tools, equipment, don't forget the frying pan and the rope and…"

"I'll remember. We'll meet here at dinnertime." Lexaeus promised patiently. Ushering the two neophytes in front of him, he left the other two to deal with the giggling Larxene.

Lexaeus studied the list as they walked down the street. Vexen had apparently left the acquirement of equipment to him. They would have to find some kind hardware store, or whatever those were called in this place. Maybe another one of those "department stores" the likes of which they had briefly visited the day before.

Axel was already lagging behind. "Move, Axel."

"Are we in a hurry, big guy?" Axel caught sight of a hatter's window, filled with all sorts of headgear. "Hey. Can I have one of those?" The hat he pointed at was black, cylindrical and nearly a foot tall.

Marluxia laughed. "That one? You really have no taste at all."

"At least I don't get compared to a cheap bordello..."

"Shut up, Axel." Lexaeus pushed up the door to a small store, the window full of gleaming copperware. "Let's start here."

"What?" Marluxia frowned. "This place? But it's... it's... "

"It appears to be suitable. We have to be sensible."

Marluxia eyed the place in distaste. "It's unrefined. Crude."

"None of that. It's cheap."

"That's what I said."

The shop owner appeared behind the counter, smiling. Lexaeus turned his back on Marluxia and gave the man a small nod. "I see you sell kitchen utensils. What is the price of your frying pans?"

Marluxia grumbled and adjusted the heavy sack Lexaeus had thrust into his arms. "You didn't have to buy the cheapest ones! These will never last."

"There's nothing wrong with the pans, Marluxia."

"Yes there is. Wonder why they came for only half as much as those other ones?"

"We have to spend wisely."

Axel's sack rattled against his legs as he lugged it along. "I still say we should go back and buy that hat."

Vexen's handwriting really was quite unreadable. Lexaeus had years of training, though. "Now we have plates, mugs and pans…."

"Yes, and _why_ did we have to buy the heaviest stuff _first_?" Axel's voice was almost a whine. "And how come you're not carrying anything?"

"Shut up, Axel." Marluxia looked at the list over Lexaeus' shoulder. "We should go get proper bags, so we don't have to carry around a multitude of parcels and sacks."

Lexaeus nodded. "You may be right. I suspect the dock area will have exactly that we are looking for."  
"The _dock area?!_ "

"This is _most_ inappropriate, Lexaeus!"

The bigger man sighed, feeling the edges of his patience fray. Zexion never complained like this. "No, Marluxia. We will _not_ waste money on luxuries. You know we all agreed on that."

"I am not talking about luxuries! This is clothing for... for _labourers_!" the pink haired man spat, pronouncing the word with utter scorn and pulling at the neckline of his coarse shirt. It was slightly too large, as were the formless pants he now wore. The thick cloth itched against his skin after years of smooth leather.

Lexaeus was already dressed much the same. The tiny shop had only a tattered curtain to hide the modesty of the clientele and Marluxia listened sullenly as Axel shuffled around behind it. "These pants are squeezing my nuts something horrible."

"Try a bigger pair, then." Lexaeus handed him one over the curtain.

Axel finally emerging with a doubtful look and a too-big workman's blouse. "I dunno, Lexaeus... Then again, most guys in this place are wearing their pants so tight it's a wonder they are still making babies here."

"Wonderful. Now put on these." In his hands were two shapeless caps. Axel grabbed the green one, squeezing it down over his wild spikes until he had managed to somehow squish them into submission under the cap. It jarred horribly with his red hair.

Marluxia eyed the remaining cap in distaste. "Is this really necessary?"

"Your hair is far too noticeable. Unless you'll rather take Vexen's advice and cut it off?"

Without a word, Marluxia snatched the cap out of his hand. With his hair tucked out of sight, his face looked very different. The loss of bangs to frame and hide his face made him seem younger, more vulnerable.

"Well," he huffed. "That done, where to next?"

They at least had bags now, sturdy rucksacks that would survive anything. Marluxia had stood his ground, insisting on something that would be water proof, comfortable and _last_. Lexaeus had agreed, after listening though the arguments. Already they were well filled, as the kitchenware now had company from fishing gear, rope, tarp and whatever other odds and ends the group had deemed necessary. Marluxia stuffed their discarded coats down with the rest while Lexaeus paid.

Axel poked a selection of ragged scarves. "There was that pub a few streets back, with the blond little bombshell outside..."

"Tools," Lexaeus replied. "And shut up, Axel, no one is listening."

Outside, the sun had passed zenith and the winding street was packed with people trudging along over the cobblestones. The three Nobodies joined the throng without getting a second glance. Their new clothes blended in perfectly in the crowd.

Axel sauntered along behind them, hands behind his neck and elbows in the sky. Darkness, but this was _boring_. Not only did he have to stand being under Lexaeus hawk eyes all day, the man was turning out to be an absolute cheapskate apart from being a stone faced bore...

A man in the crowd bumped into him, almost dropping the buckets he was carrying. Angry curses followed the redhead up the street. "Hey, Paddy! Watch where you are going!"

"Paddy?"

"Your new name," Marluxia grinned. "Paddy Axel Fox."

"People here are _strange_. Hey, that bar was the other way!"

The other two ignored him determinedly. "Did you have matches on that list, Lexaeus?"

"No, but we should probably get some."

"Why? As long as I am here, you won't need them."

"Exactly, Axel."

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?!"

"It means that unless you're quiet, there might just be an unfortunate accident very soon."

"Yes," Marluxia agreed. "You just might be dragged the nearest alley and beaten senseless. We do not want that. It'd be hell on my new clothes."

The two older Nobodies exchanged a glance of rare comradeship as Axel hissed. "Very funny, guys."

"Just giving you some advice, Axel." Marluxia's smile was venomous.

Number Eight seemed to take the not-so-subtle hint and finally fell silent, his sullen presence following after the other two like a small thunder cloud. Lexaeus suppressed a sigh.  
How much _easier_ it was to be in Zexion's company. There was no need for words, no use for bickering. He dearly hoped Zexion would soon come to terms with whatever had been on his mind lately.

By the time they finally exited the last tool shop, the sun had already begun to settle. Marluxia shouldered his by now rather heavy bag with a snarl. "Happy now?"

A small frown appeared on Lexaeus forehead, despite all his efforts. "We saved good munny on comparing those shops. Don't start to behave like Axel."

The redhead opened his mouth, but Lexaeus snapped. "Shut up!"

"I didn't even say anything!"

"Good. Keep it that way." He was in no mood to be courteous with the fools right now.

"I am not behaving like Axel!" Marluxia had pulled himself up and glared. "Those measly munny weren't worth walking back across half the city!"

"You shut up too, Marluxia." His voice had dropped a few octaves, into an irritated growl. It was pleasing to see the other man pale just the slightest bit, see the uncertain flicker in his eyes. At least Marluxia remembered past lessons.

He unfolded Vexen's list and ticked off the latest purchases. "We are almost done. All we need now are blankets. We should get going before the shops closes for the night."

The other two followed him like sulky children down the street. A pawnshop passed on the right, but Marluxia's steely gaze clearly showed it wouldn't be worth the effort.  
They rounded a corner and found themselves faced with a tall, well-lit façade covering the entire block across the street. Large door stood open unto the crisp evening, spilling out light and a steady stream of people coming and going.

"What's that?"

Lexaeus studied the building. "I think it's a department store. A... slightly bigger one."

"I think it's a place selling blankets." Without waiting for the others, Marluxia marched across the street and though the doors.

Lexaeus caught up with him studying a placard in the entranceway. Inside, the place was even more luxurious. It looked more like a palace than a place of commerce. Then again, they revered munny in this world. Years spent dragging worlds into Darkness gave you a keen eye for people's vices.

Marluxia pointed at the placard. "See! I knew they'd sell linens! Third floor!"

"And quickly, too," Axel said, looking over his shoulder. "Those guards over there look like they might want to have a talk with us."

Lexaeus looked over his shoulder to see two big, serious men in sombre uniform approaching them with purpose in their steps.

"You're right. Third floor it is."

Marluxia gave him a suspicious look as they hurried up the nearest set of stairs. "You're not complaining?"

"No? Why would I? It's important with good quality, and this place seems to sell just that." He kept his gaze carefully neutral, even as Marluxia's tore between confusion and anger. So easy to needle, if you knew his weaknesses.

"That's what I've been saying all along!"

"Ah, here we are." Lexaeus gently steered them in among heaps of blankets and small mountains of fluffy eiderdowns. A small woman in black dress appeared before them, eying them with some unease. "Ma'am. We were told to buy blankets? For the lordship?"

Marluxia carried the armful of rolled up blankets with some satisfaction. Lexaeus winced internally at the price they had come at, no matter how warm they might be. However, he had a feeling they'd be worth it one day. With a small flourish, he pricked off the last item on the list. "All done. And it seems dinnertime is approaching."

The other two seemed just as relieved to see the day over as he was. "Indeed. Let's head back."

Axel nodded in rare agreement.  
Together, the three men crossed the streets and disappeared into the dusk.


	23. Chapter 021 - Shop 'til You Drop II

Chapter: 021 - Shop 'til You Drop II  
Location: London  
Characters: Larxene, Vexen, Zexion  
Rating/Warnings: G/None, really.  
Summary: So much to buy, so little time. This is _refined_ shopping, for _gentlemen_. ... Oh, and Larxene. 

**Chapter 021 : London – Shop 'til You Drop II.**

* * *

Vexen and Zexion stood silent as the trio walked away, each lost in his own thoughts.  
" Well, what are we shopping for today?"  
Larxene's cheerful voice tore the two elder Elders from their thoughtful silence.

" I have a list," Vexen said, patting his pockets before remembering he already held the sheet of paper in his hand.  
" Here. We need more potions, as well as other assorted medical equipment. Articles of hygiene. Contemporary clothes for the rest of our stay, and some kind of sacks or bags to carry our possessions in."  
" We need provisions as well, things that will last. Some kind of dried or canned food, perhaps. As a precaution, in case we should find ourselves in places where food isn't easily available," Zexion added, peering over Vexen's arm to make sure he wrote it down. "Salt, sugar, herbs and spices. And tea, of course."  
" Of course," Vexen snorted, but made a dutiful scribble at the bottom of the list.  
" What about hunting and fishing equipment?" Larxene asked, sidling up to Vexen's other side to peek at the list. He recoiled somewhat out of habit but lowered his hands so the two shorter Nobodies could read what he had written.

" Lexaeus and the others will take care of that. Our job today is to acquire the more... cultured items we might need."  
She smiled wickedly.  
" The high and mighty scientist thinks worldly things like getting food are beneath him? I'll remember that next time I catch a fish."  
Vexen scowled, but before he could open his mouth to retort Zexion smoothly stepped in.

" Larxene," he intoned in his most reasonable voice, " I'm sure you are no happier being stuck with us today than we are with you, but I think we should all try to get along, don't you agree?"  
She slowly raised her eyebrows and gave the short man a steady, cynical look. He forced a smile upon his lips, but it was so strained and altogether false no illusion in the world could pass it off for real.

Faced with her utterly unimpressed expression the Schemer threw up his hands in disgust, abandoning all attempts at refinement and promptly resorted to crude bribery.  
" Okay, fine, tell you what. You keep yourself in line while we run today's errands, and we'll get you something nice when we're done. Agreed?"  
She pursed her lips slightly and crossed her arms.  
" What kind of 'nice'..?"

Zexion and Vexen exchanged a blank look, neither very knowledgeable on the subject of trinkets possibly attractive to young women.  
" Some kind of jewellery, perhaps..?" Vexen suggested, thus exhausting most of his wisdom on the topic.  
" Perfume?" Zexion ventured. " Shoes? One of those little hats the women here have?"  
" Fancy black lace lingerie?" Vexen proposed in a spirit of somewhat carried-away scientific reasoning, then bit his tongue and wished for the thousandth time in his life to learn the fine art of thinking before speaking.  
The following solid silence was broken by Larxene's shrill laugh and she elbowed him quite painfully in the side.

" You kinky old man! Fine, fine. I'll be good. But you'd better stick to your word or I'll do unspeakable things to the both of you in your sleep."  
" Fine," Vexen muttered, rubbing his side and carefully avoiding their eyes by busying himself with his list. " That taken care of, maybe we should get started. We have much to do"

Larxene put on her best innocent young girl's face and curtsied sweetly.  
" Lead the way, gentlemen."

Shaking his head in disgust Zexion gave Vexen's list a quick glance, apparently capable of deciphering the illegible scrawl.  
" Let's start with clothes. We want to attract as little attention as possible."

" Ah, Zexion," Vexen said with a nod at the money-bag as the shorter man turned to lead the way. " I think I would like to carry half of that if it's all the same to you."  
Zexion turned back with the very slightest hint of displeasure creasing his brow.  
" Does it really matter who carries the money? We are doing this together, aren't we?"  
Vexen crossed his arms, giving the younger man a very steady look.

" We have agreed to hold equal shares of our collective possessions. It's certainly more efficient if either one of us can pay for the goods we buy."  
" We only have one purse," Zexion pointed out.  
" I can keep it in my pocket."  
" It might fall out."  
" As might the purse. Oh, come on now, Zexion. Stop being such a power-greedy little opportunist and just pay up."  
" Ooh, harsh yet honest," Larxene commented and earned herself a sour look from Zexion as he counted roughly half the money to hand to the senior Nobody.  
" _You_ just shut up and behave."  
" Right, right. Or Vexen won't buy me lingerie."  
" I never said..!"

Inwardly devising detailed and rather creative curses to apply to his companions, Zexion pocketed the considerably lighter purse and started walking towards the department store where they had bought certain essential garments the previous day  
From behind him indignant rants and cruel little laughs grated harshly on the nerves of one more used to the blissfully quiet companionship of a Silent Hero.

" Why, that's a good look for you, Zexion. Couldn't you find pants your own size?"  
" I thought you promised to be quiet," the short man growled as he adjusted his clothes somewhat. The upside to the prefabricated clothes in the department store was that they were neat, durable and came decently cheap. The downside was that unlike Larxene's, they weren't made to fit carefully made measurements, and thus felt quite constricting. Or maybe that was just down to the odd fashion they sported here.

Vexen joined them a few minutes later. Unable to find a full set of garments suitable for his tall, thin frame, he had opted to keep his uniform pants and boots. Nonetheless he was transformed enough by the very tidy contemporary shirt and vest he now wore that no-one would stop to give him second glances. Writhing uncomfortably in his close-fitting pants Zexion wished he'd thought of doing the same, but he'd be damned if he'd go back inside to change back _now_.  
" Are we ready to move on?" Vexen asked, giving Zexion a quick once-over before checking the 'clothes' line on his list.

" You both look like clerks," Larxene commented. " Tidy and boring. Not that much of a change, really."  
Vexen turned on her with a scowl, pen hovering over the list.  
" That reminds me. You need a skirt."  
She widened her eyes with an offended look.  
" What?"  
" Every woman we're met here has worn them. Sometimes even several layers."  
" How would you know? Been looking up ladies' skirts?" she spat, but the insult sounded sulky and contrived.  
" Don't be difficult," Zexion scolded. " He's right. A new jacket isn't enough to make you blend in."  
 _Although what is, I wouldn't know_ , he mentally added.  
The only way Larxene would naturally blend in _anywhere_ would be if ground down into minuscule particles and poured into a patch of dung. _Bitch_.

" I don't want one! You can't walk properly in one of those things!"  
" You can walk just fine. Maybe not kick, but that could be a learning experience for you."  
" This from the man whose Organization-coat looks like a dress," she muttered, but snatched a specimen of the offending garment from a nearby shelf on her way back inside and stomped off to try it on.

" Do you really think she'll cooperate all day?" Zexion asked.  
" Probably not. We had better enjoy it while it lasts."  
" Hm. And then bribe her senseless."  
Vexen scowled.  
" Rewarding adverse behaviour? Is that wise?"  
The Schemer cynically raised his eyebrows.  
" Would you rather try brute force?"  
They contemplated this in heavy silence for a full half-minute.  
" No. No, I'd rather not."  
" I thought not. Where to next?"  
Vexen produced his trusty list.

" I think we might find sanitary products here as well. Possibly bags of some kind to carry our further acquisitions in. But I think we'll have to go elsewhere for medical equipment, potions, and your food and spices."  
" And tea."  
" Yes, and tea."

" You happy now?" Larxene interjected as she returned, stomping up to them in the most unladylike manner possible. She was indeed wearing a rather proper dark skirt reaching to her ankles, looking a lot more feminine for it. The two men gave approving nods.  
" Much better. You look just like a native."  
She huffed.  
" It's like walking in half a tent. You'd better make this worth my while."  
" Of course," Zexion assured her in his smoothest voice. " As soon as we're done shopping. Why don't you spend some nice, quiet time thinking about what you'll want? There's a good girl."

The 'good girl' was probably pushing it too far. She gave him a cool, narrow-eyed stare.  
" Watch it, kiddo. No-one ever patronizes me more than once."  
" Confronted with the prospect of your company, I suppose they're too busy moving very fast in the opposite direction," Vexen sneered, decisively checking the first post on his list. "Let's pay for the skirt and move on. There's still a lot to be done today."

" Towels, toothbrushes, toothpowder, soap, shampoo, combs and hairbrushes, check," Vexen said, sounding very pleased with being able to meticulously strike out the posts on the list one by one. Zexion neatly tucked away his share of their latest bargains into the equally neat and rather small bag he was now carrying.  
Larxene inspected her newly acquired toothbrush with scepticism.  
" I don't know. How clean can your teeth get if you rub them with pig-hair?"  
" You haven't even read the list of contents of the tooth powder yet," Zexion told her, not without malice. She did so.  
" 'Carbolic Tooth Powder'... Oh, no. _Charcoal_ toothpaste? And pig-hair toothbrushes! That's just horrible!"  
" Stop complaining, Larxene," Vexen said absently. " We're not using Corridors to get you to a dentist if your teeth start aching."  
She shuddered and shoved the offending toothbrush into her dainty new handbag.  
" If my teeth turn black I'll get violent," she threatened.

" Do we need anything else here now?" Zexion asked and glanced at Vexen's list.  
" No, I think we're done. We should try and find an apothecary, and a place selling the groceries we need."

" It really makes it very tangible, doesn't it," Larxene said as they left the department store, her voice unusually thoughtful.  
" What?" Vexen asked, folding his list and putting it away.  
" Getting all these things. It's like preparing for a whole new life."  
" Well, we _are_ , in case you hadn't realized," Zexion scoffed.  
" I _know_ that," she sneered back. " I meant... You just write your little lists, make your little plans and talk about getting bare necessities for the here and now. Don't you ever think of the big picture? What it _means_? We have no idea what awaits us now. Nothing can be taken for granted anymore."

The two Elders walked in silence for a while.  
" We know," Zexion finally muttered. " It's not exactly a welcome turn of events."  
She raised her eyebrows, giving them one of her rare _old_ looks.

" So if you don't think about it, it'll all go away?"  
Vexen sighed.  
" Take it from a scientist, Larxene. The grand visions are tantalizing, but unless you start with the smallest preparations you'll end up with your grand vision blown up in your face. We don't know what lies ahead, and frankly I'm not sure I want to know. But we can at least take it on prepared."  
They walked in silence for another few yards.  
" You know, Vexen," she admitted," that almost made some kind of sense."  
He gave a thin, humourless smirk.  
" I'm glad you approve. Now keep your eyes open for medicine and groceries. There's still a lot to buy before we're done."

 _We never asked for this,_ Zexion thought as they kept walking. _We should have acted sooner, but we didn't, and now we're stuck in this nightmare, everything familiar turned on its head. It's vile and confounding and you treat it like some kind of_ adventure. _Idiots. Blind, dim-witted idiots, every one of you._

And then he kicked himself mentally for still thinking 'we' when the truth was that these days, because of one crucial, miscalculated order back in Oblivion, he really was quite painfully alone.

" And sterile dressings; pads, bandages and gauze. Alcohol. Tincture of iodine. Thank you. What else..?"  
" Shears. Tweezers," Zexion suggested. " Forceps. And maybe some surgical needles and sterile thread. A scalpel, perhaps?"  
" Oh! I have one of those," Larxene chirped, rummaging around her pockets and finally producing a suspiciously stained but undoubtedly high-quality scalpel. The two other Nobodies eyed it warily.  
" Where did you get that?" Zexion very carefully inquired. She shrugged and shot them her most wide-eyed look.  
" Can't remember. Must have found it lying around somewhere. Never know when these things come in useful, right? Tee-hee."  
She gave a horrible little girly airheaded giggle and handed the knife over to the slate-haired man with a curtsy. The man behind the counter gave his customers a very dubious look.  
" Hrm. Right. Tweezers," Vexen continued, in a somewhat strained attempt to save the situation.

" Oh!" Larxene added, as a thought struck her, " Do you sell cyanide?"  
" No!" Zexion hissed at her.  
" Arsenic? Or, oh, strychnine!"  
" If you'll excuse me for a moment," Vexen gave the apothecary a bright smile, then turned and grabbed the young woman's arm, dragging her off for a hissed and not entirely discreet discussion, generous on snarls, whines and sweeping gestures.

Zexion leaned forward, drawing the man's horrified attention from the others, and calmly placed a small fortune on the counter.  
" How about you take this, my good man, and discreetly sell the young woman some almond oil, assuring her it's cyanide?" he said. The man's eyes first widened, then narrowed at the sight of the money.  
" And _then_ ," the Nobody added, doubling the amount, "how about you take _this_ and do _not_ under any circumstance, sell her anything actually poisonous..?"  
The shopkeeper's eyes flickered from his face to the money, then back.  
" The young lady is of a not entirely stable mind," he clarified.  
" I can... see that," the man said weakly with a sympathetic nod, but quickly scooped up the offered money. " A pleasure doing business with you, sir."

They left the apothecary's shop eventually, laden with medical equipment and in the beaming Larxene's case, a small phial of what was hopefully just a harmless baking ingredient.  
They had even acquired a small but welcome stash of new potions; the very steep price hinted they were not too common on this world, but whereas the group still had more munny than they could comfortably carry, the chance to replenish potions was a rare opportunity not to be wasted. They had been worth every munny spent.

Zexion was still debating whether he might dare to try to assure Larxene her small bottle of assumed poison could be counted as her bribe of the day when the object of his intended proposition stopped by a grubby window.  
" What now?" Vexen asked as he looked up from his list and realized his shopping companions no longer followed him.  
" Books," Larxene said, pointing at the very small and gloomy shop. Zexion sported an identical gleam in his eyes, a flicker of genuine enthusiasm rare for the usually reserved Schemer. Vexen snorted.

" I was not aware you were so interested in literature, Larxene."  
" You kidding?" she exclaimed, happily pointing at a mostly obscured bookshelf inside. " If that's not an original _Fanny Hill_ right there, I'm not a heartless bitch. And I am, so it is."  
Zexion took half a step away from her on principle, but the greedy gleam remained in his eyes.  
" Perhaps we should go inside and have a look. See if we can find out something useful."  
The scientist frowned.  
" We don't have a lot of time."  
" We can see if we can't find books on wilderness survival," Larxene suggested with maddening logic. " What kind of roots you can eat and what mushrooms will make you see rainbows and such."

It _was_ a good idea. Even Vexen had to admit it. Zexion was already heading for the door, a ruffle-haired shark smelling blood. Larxene wasn't far behind, and with a sigh Vexen accepted himself outnumbered, reluctantly following the others inside.

The crowded gloom of the small shop had the smell of libraries and old bookstores everywhere, a dry, warm papery scent, all but rustling with all the knowledge contained in the small space, a dusty temple to the written word.

Vexen paused and closed his eyes as he stepped through the door, a short, harsh twinge of remembrance making him falter briefly. The sunlit library in Master Ansem's castle had smelled just like that, the scent reminding him of many days and nights spent pouring over ancient tomes, hungrily chasing knowledge that might hide just behind the next page, of minutes, hours passing by unnoticed, a steady fatherly hand on one's shoulder, that warm laugh and a good-humoured order to head off to bed, and-...  
He opened his eyes, no emotion left behind by the memory but a washed-out sense of weariness. He sighed and began searching the shelves for whatever could turn out useful.

Larxene had retired to the darkest corner of the shop and emitted pleased little squeaks whenever she found something suitably juicy. Zexion was nowhere to be seen, having already wandered deep into the jungle of mismatched shelves and piles of books.

Vexen picked out a few slim, possibly useful volumes at random, then sighed when it became apparent the other two would not be torn from their joyful browsing without use of force, or at least very stern words. He found Zexion first, nose deeply buried in a ridiculously thick book on formulas and arithmetical patterns found in ancient mathematics.  
" You'll never be able to carry that with you," he pointed out.  
Zexion started and looked up, for a second seeming almost surprised to see him standing there.  
 _Do you, too, remember another time in another world, half-expecting to feel a familiar fatherly hand on your shoulder?_

" Well," the Schemer said, straightening and closing the book, all business again. " This particular one wasn't as interesting as I had hoped. But I did find several others I think I _will_ bring along, for my reading pleasure."  
It took Vexen a few seconds to realize the impressive pile of books beside his companion was not, unlike other similar piles scattered about the store, collected and deposited by chance. He slowly raised his eyebrows.  
" All of them?"  
" Of course."  
" Ah, here you are! I half suspected you had sneaked off without me," Larxene interrupted, walking down the narrow aisle.  
" Leading the rest of our tattered, miserable existence without your refreshing company, Larxene? I'm sure we'd never dream of it," Zexion drawled, apparently cheered up by the sheer amount of books in his surroundings. She cackled with malicious amusement.  
" Of course not."

" Are you both done? We should move on," Vexen interjected with thinly veiled impatience.  
" Soon," Zexion nodded. " If you think you could be so kind and provide a bit of distraction? This will only take a few minutes."  
" What sort of distraction?" Vexen scowled, even as Larxene studied the pile of books Zexion was possessively pulling together with impressed curiosity.  
" Are you going to buy them all?"  
" There's a trick to it," he said haughtily. " I'm sure you wouldn't understand. Here," he said, turning to Vexen and conjuring a copy of his trademark massive black-and-silver book. " You go and see if you can sell this to the gentleman at the counter. Haggle. That should keep him occupied for long enough."

The scientist narrowed his eyes suspiciously.  
" Just what are you going to do?"  
The grin the shorter Nobody gave him was downright unholy.  
" I'll just... expand my Shade Archive yet another bit."  
An identical book appeared in his hands. He demonstratively touched it to the topmost book in the pile. There was a faint rustle, much like a quick riffling of pages, then silence.  
Larxene poked at the book on the pile, then opened it.  
Every page was empty.  
She gave a quiet whistle and Zexion looked even more smug than usual.  
" That's useful."  
" It has come in handy from time to time. Knowledge, as you should know, is power."  
" Too bad it wasn't powerful enough to impress Riku," she trilled, earning herself an altogether sour glare.

" I'll go distract the shopkeeper," Vexen said, washing his hands of the looming argument.  
" Do what you intend to do, so we can leave."  
The dry rustle of pages echoed in his ears as he turned and left.

" I can't believe I had to do that," Zexion positively _whined_ as they walked down the cobbled street. " Such books do _not_ belong in my personal archive!"  
Larxene giggled happily.  
" Oh, come now! You _did_ promise to give me something nice, didn't you?"  
" I didn't realize you would expect me to stuff your _perverted_ excuses for literature into my ethereal library! I feel sullied," he groused. Vexen barely managed to hide an altogether childish smirk.  
" But it's so wonderfully handy! Now I can read whatever lovely smut or bloodshed I want, whenever and wherever I want it!"  
She blew the Schemer a kiss, hardly improving his mood.  
" Disgusting."  
" Tell you what, you can have a look at them any time you want! The perfect inspiration for a romantic evening with Lexie, perhaps?"  
He actually struck out, growling, and she laughed and danced out of the way.  
" Fine, fine, be a prude."

" Don't tease Zexion, Larxene," Vexen lectured, studying his by now rather weathered list.  
" If you don't behave, he's entitled to throw your reward away."  
She dutifully fell into step beside him, a wonder of angelic silence.  
" Now what?"  
" There's a small grocer's shop near the train station by the hotel," he said, putting the list back into his pocket. " We can get the provisions we need there, and then meet up with the others for dinner."

 _With those other dear idiots. I wonder how their day was?_ Larxene thought, then went back to contemplating the past night's adventures in loving detail.

 _With Marluxia, that vile rat, and the others,_ Vexen thought. _I hope Lexaeus got fed up with both him and Axel and drowned them in the river._

 _With Lexaeus,_ thought Zexion. _I miss you - but the worst part is that I miss you even when you're right next to me. Will I ever really be able to talk to you again?_

Each lost in their own thoughts they walked in silence back towards The Terminus as the warm afternoon light above turned cool with slowly approaching dusk.

Surprisingly, all things considered, it hadn't been an altogether bad day.


	24. Chapter 022- Destiny Interrupted (XXX)

Chapter: 022- Destiny... Interrupted (XXX)  
Location: London  
Characters: Lexaeus, Zexion (Marluxia, Vexen, Axel, Larxene)  
Rating/Warnings: NC-17/yaoi smut  
Summary: The group reunites for dinner, and Lexaeus and Zexion have their... discussion. 

**Chapter 022: London – Destiny... Interrupted. (XXX)**

* * *

When the two groups met for dinner, it was with the obvious relief of the Elders- most notably Lexaeus and Zexion.

"It's good to see you again," Zexion said, though his tone was carefully neutral as Vexen snagged the list to ensure that everything had been purchased.

"It was a trying day," Lexaeus agreed, nodding, eyes flicking briefly to Axel, who was fending off a hysterical Larxene over his cap, and the ever-sulking Marluxia who was loudly demanding that they be allowed to change back into their Organization coats. "…very trying."

"Yes," Zexion agreed. He took in Lexaeus' shabby, dock-boy appearance. "Where did you buy clothes?" He arched a single eyebrow, glancing down at his own, much fancier attire.

"The docks," Lexaeus said, with a simple shrug. "I doubt a department store would have had my size anyway."

"This is true," Zexion agreed. "You are larger than anyone I've seen here. It's… quite comforting."

"Mm."

"It's outrageous," Marluxia told Larxene, who wasn't interested in listening. "Forced to dress as a commoner."

"Shut up, Marluxia." Axel's lip curled as he tried to direct Larxene's unwanted attentions to someone "more deserving". "You'd think you two had been separated for years."

"Shut up, Axel," Lexaeus said, with a tone that implied that this had been said many, many times already.

"Marluxia has a point," Zexion sighed. "We came to this hotel as the Brothers and Sisters of… whatever, and our uniforms were very distinct. We should not change that."

"Of course," Vexen said crisply, pleased that someone _else_ had agreed with Marluxia first. "That only stands to reason."

"We'll change and head to dinner," Marluxia said, turning before the Elders could snap at him for his tone. "I'm quite sure everyone is hungry."

"It's too bad Vexen didn't buy me the sexy black lingerie he promised," Larxene pouted, as she, too, headed to find a place to change. "I'd change into it for Lexy."

Zexion's gaze turned steely and cold, and Lexaeus decided it would be better not to ask.

Marluxia's eyebrow went up, and a slow, lazy smirk tugged his lips up. " _Well_ , now," he said. "That's a side of Vexen I hadn't seen before." His eyes flicked over Larxene's retreating form. "And a side of Larxene that would be… quite… interesting to see."

"Shut _up_ , Marluxia!" Vexen's cheeks flushed pink, and he stalked off to find a place to change as well to avoid meeting the Assassin's gaze, and to avoid that dreadful smirk.

Dinner was a mostly silent affair, with Larxene and Axel too busy stuffing their faces to do much talking.

That was nice. The Elders enjoyed that immensely.

Zexion caught Lexaeus' eye and made the slightest of nods towards the stairs to their room. Lexaeus made the slightest nod in return, and they both stood, Zexion claiming exhaustion and headache. And, of course, since Lexaeus followed him everywhere, like a kicked puppy, he would follow.

"Pathetic," Larxene sneered. "He could snap anyone in half, and he follows that arrogant twit around like Axel gagging after Roxas."

"Shut it, bitch," Axel snapped, then his expression grew into a lazy smirk. "Besides, you don't really think he's got a headache, right? You're not _that_ stupid."

Larxene bristled. "Whatever. It doesn't _matter_ , he's still-"

"Shut up and eat," Marluxia growled. He didn't want to hear anything else about Lexaeus, or Zexion, or their personal… activities.

Some things still grated against bone, and he remembered pain long after it should be forgotten.

No. He did not want to think about Lexaeus at all.

Zexion was _not_ used to awkward pauses. He was used to silence, yes, but of the companionable sort, not the kind that stretched out for eternity and made one's gut tie itself in knots.

Lexaeus was sitting quietly on the bed, watching him with a thoughtful, impenetrable expression. Zexion simply watched him in return, standing by the door, attempting to keep his expression as blank as possible.

 _What are you thinking, Lexaeus?_

Finally, he could no longer stand the silence, and cleared his throat. Lexaeus sat up a touch straighter. "We need to talk."

"You've said that before," the Silent Hero responded, and his voice held no hints of _anything_ , nothing that would allow Zexion to guard himself against any possible outcome.

"It's true," Zexion put a hand on his chin, dropping his gaze to around Lexaeus' knees. It didn't help- he could still feel the other man's gaze upon him. "I'm sure we have much to say to each other."

"Mm." Lexaeus folded his hands in his lap, and Zexion had the feeling he was barely restraining himself from reminding Zexion that he never had much to say to anyone.

"About… what happened, before," the smaller Nobody began to broach the subject, setting his jaw and grimly plowing ahead through all the awkward stumbling blocks in his way, the tongue-ties and stammers, the foolish, boyish things he would not allow himself to do. He was a Nobody of Organization XIII, not a child- he could hold a conversation with his partner and not trip over his shoelaces like a schoolboy.

"In the forest?" Lexaeus arched an eyebrow. "Or in Oblivion."

"Oblivion," Zexion ground out, twitching slightly as he fought the urge to pace. He needed something to do with his hands, and settled for folding his arms tightly. "Riku."

"Ah," Lexaeus put his chin in his hand now, and frowned. "Yes. I suppose we do."

"I will admit that my plan was faulty," he gave into the urge to pace and strode back and forth across the narrow room. "Riku was less easily controlled than I imagined he would be."

"I agreed with your plan," Lexaeus shrugged slightly. "I did not speak against you."

"Did you wish to fight him?" Zexion stopped pacing and turned to stare at him, hair hiding the majority of his expression.

Lexaeus shrugged once. "No," he admitted. "But I had little choice."

"Because of me," Zexion said, eyes narrowing.

"For many reasons," Lexaeus dropped his gaze to his hands, and did not raise it again.

"Damn! Lexaeus, don't try to appease me!" Zexion stalked over, grabbing the large shoulders in his hands. "Tell me the _truth_. Admit it to us both- you blame _me_ for what happened!"

"No," Lexaeus met his gaze now, and it was steady and unwavering. "I did not blame you for my loss."

Zexion took a step back, releasing him. "You… I don't understand why you did not." The blue-haired Nobody turned away, resuming his pacing. "I sent you to your death, I _ordered_ you to fight Riku, and you were destroyed because of it…"

"Nearly so," Lexaeus agreed, nodding. "But I still did not blame you. I did not have to obey. I chose to."

Zexion stared at him for a long moment, then raked a hand through his hair. "You mean, you truly didn't mind?"

"Of course not," Lexaeus shrugged. "I thought it was a good idea too, if you remember."

The wind had dropped from Zexion's sails. Now he had no idea what to say next, and simply stood where he was, hand in his hair. "…I… thought you would be displeased with me," he finally said, licking his lips. "I thought you would hate me for sending you to die."

"In truth, I… was displeased with myself, for failing you," Lexaeus' voice was very quiet, his eyes back on his lap. "It was not a habit I wished to fall into."

"It was the only time you failed me, and it was more because I had failed you," Zexion felt the overwhelming urge to comfort the larger man, and slowly sat on the bed beside him. "I should not have been blind to our weaknesses and Riku's strengths."

"You couldn't have known," Lexaeus rested a hand on his shoulder now, squeezing gently. "None of us did."

Zexion nodded, looking down. "Of course," he murmured. "You're right." And he gave in, because it was _Lexaeus_ , who did not lie to him, who never lied to him, who gave him everything he had, and hated himself when he failed at the impossible tasks Zexion gave to him.

If he had a heart, Zexion would believe that Lexaeus loved him.

Thankfully, Nobodies did not have to worry about such foolish things as emotions, such as _love_. It was ridiculous to even consider.

Lexaeus put his arm around him, and Zexion was once again reminded of the larger Nobody's strength and power. _To realize that a scrawny, half-grown boy defeated him… unthinkable._ He leaned up against the Silent Hero, eyes half-closing. The comfortable, companionable feeling was back, and he basked in it, relishing every moment. This was more like it. This was what their relationship (was that what it was?) should be, this peace, this calm, this lack of strain and distrust.

And this lack of interruption. At any other time, he was sure Axel would come bursting in and disrupting everything all to hell.

Or Larxene would. Even worse.

"You know," he said, and looked up at Lexaeus, expression bitterly serious. "If Larxene doesn't stop attempting to put her hands all over you, I am going to lock her in the illusion of her very worst nightmare."

"If she does not stop, you have my permission to," Lexaeus' arm tightened around him. _I so enjoy it when you're jealous,_ wasn't said, but it was apparent.

"Good," Zexion's hand rested on Lexaeus' thigh, tracing little patterns almost absently. "She needs to learn her place."

"Indeed," Lexaeus agreed, eyes on his hand now, seemingly fascinated by it. "The younger ones never did take to our domination well."

"Mm." Zexion's hand crept higher. "So true. But… we have some time to ourselves now, don't we?"

"We should make the most of it," Lexaeus agreed, drawing Zexion closer. "We may not get another private moment for some time…"

"So true," Zexion murmured, pressing his lips to the larger man's neck in a light kiss before moving to perch in his lap. "I was… quite worried that you would be angry with me," he added, moving to draw the zipper down on Lexaeus' coat.

"Mm, if I am angry, Zexion, you will know it." Broad hands settled on slender, fragile-seeming hipbones. "Trust me."

"I do trust you," the Schemer admitted, pushing the coat off of his lover's shoulders. He hadn't been able to touch Lexaeus in so long like this, hadn't been able to feel relaxed and content, and to be so open again was exhilarating.

"Good," Lexaeus murmured, moving to roll the smaller man beneath him. Zexion put an arm down to stop him- it wouldn't have _really_ mattered, had Lexaeus put his mind to it, but Lexaeus raised an eyebrow and settled back onto his back. "Yes?"

"Don't think I'm going to give into you now," Zexion's eyes gleamed brightly. He snagged Lexaeus' hands and pressed them up over his head. He had to straddle his stomach and stretch embarrassingly long to do so, but it was the thought that counted, he supposed. "Even after all that."

"I never would have expected you to," Lexaeus' eyes were darkened now, his gaze scorching. "However, you'll have problems like this, I think."

The smaller Nobody gave an irritated snort and let go of his arms. "If you obey me, you'll keep your arms there without me holding you down." The lighter blue eyes were full of wicked glee. "Isn't that true?"

Lexaeus swallowed a groan as Zexion sat back low across his hips. "Very true," he agreed, nodding slightly, and leaving his arms stretched over his head. It was a delightfully powerful moment for Zexion, leaving him feeling intoxicated. The only way it could have been better if Lexaeus had been bound at his mercy, and with the relatively unfamiliar environment, he would never risk it.

Not that Lexaeus couldn't snap through any bonds placed on him in moments. He simply chose not to, in Zexion's case.

 _Intoxicating._

Zexion rocked his hips down, bending to nip lightly at the exposed skin of Lexaeus' chest. He wanted to wring as many noises from his silent lover as possible, to mark and stake his claim.

The others _would_ know, dammit, and leave what was _his_ by right alone.

Lexaeus was being annoyingly silent. Zexion debated commanding him to make noise, and decided against it. It would be much more fun in a different way, after all. Sliding down to sit across Lexaeus' knees, he deftly began to open his pants, licking his lips in an utterly blatant way.

He looked up, just to see Lexaeus' expression. The other Nobody had one eyebrow raised, but otherwise looked unruffled.

 _Doesn't he think I'll follow through? Well, we'll show him…_ Smirking at him, Zexion leaned down and licked Lexaeus' rapidly-hardening erection from base to tip.

He looked back up in time to see his partner's back arch, his jaw lock and muscles strain as he fought the urge to bring his arms down and tangle his hands in Zexion's hair. Still smirking, this time with a definitely smug edge to it, Zexion leaned down and licked again, shivering in delight at the strangled groan it produced.

It had been some time since he'd done this, and it was evident from Lexaeus' tense muscles that he'd missed it.

 _Good._ It sent another thrill of power through him. He wrapped his lips around the head, tongue teasing the sensitive glans. Lexaeus jerked, groaning, twisting his hand to get a grip on the mattress and keeping his arms above his head.

 _So good!_ Zexion took him deeper as a reward, stretching his jaw wide. He wouldn't be able to do this for long; he truly was out of practice, and it was a pity, because this was doing a spectacular job of wringing soft moans and grunts out of his victim. But his jaw was already tiring, and he found he couldn't take Lexaeus as deep as he once could.

 _Pity. I suppose we'll have to get more moments along like this, so I can get back into shape, hm? I doubt he'll mind, truly…_

He pulled away, letting go with an almost embarrassing "pop". Lexaeus' eyes were closed, the muscles on his arms standing out in stark relief. Zexion was tempted to climb up and touch, trace his fingers over each defined line of arm and chest, but his own need was growing- as was evidenced by the fact that his pants were much too tight. He squirmed out of them quickly, kicking them off to the side, and cursing when they caught around his ankles. He didn't have the time to fight with stubborn pants; he had better things to be doing.

Besides, the others _could_ come back soon.

And he suddenly realized that they had a definite lack of lubrication. A brief blowjob simply wasn't enough to get someone of Lexaeus' size properly slicked, and Zexion himself was not prepared.

 _This… may be a problem._

He pulled away completely, moving off the bed to search. He felt Lexaeus' eyes on him immediately, and the other guessed what he was up to. "There's some kind of oil in the desk drawer," he rumbled, stretching his neck to follow Zexion's movements.

"Ah!" Quickly, the smaller Nobody darted over, digging through the desk drawers and finally pulling out a vial labeled "smoothing oil".

Zexion didn't much care, it could have been any sort of oil, and he'd have used it. Crawling back onto the bed, he perched on Lexaeus' stomach and examined the situation. "I don't suppose there's much you can do in your situation," he purred, pouring the oil on his own hands.

Lexaeus shuddered, eyes flicking over Zexion's body. "I want to see it," he rumbled, eyes almost black with lust.

"Of course," Zexion brushed his clean hand over his chest before rising to his knees and pressing two fingers into himself.

He'd really prefer Lexaeus to do this for him, truth be told. Lexaeus had larger hands, longer fingers, and it better prepared him for being so filled. But the gradual glazing of Lexaeus' eyes made it entirely worth the mild discomfort of his knees and wrist as he held the position. "Don't worry," he managed to say, as he shamelessly rocked his hips, attempting to give Lexaeus a better view, "I won't- ah- take long…"

"Zexion," Lexaeus rumbled, and it was probably the only thing he could think to say.

Meeting his gaze was a mistake; Zexion pulled his hand away and poured more oil out, rubbing his hands together and twisting to quickly coat Lexaeus' erection. That earned him another groan, and he shuddered, turning back to face him again.

Normally, there would be no pause here, no moment where they simply gazed at each other, no wordless promises or meaningless looks. They were Nobodies. Sex did not have emotional connections for them. But this time, it was not normal.

Zexion looked away first, shifting to rest his hands against Lexaeus' chest, and slowly pushing himself down. He sucked in a breath at the intrusion, Lexaeus lifting his hips slightly to press deeper, faster. Again, he was straining to keep his arms above his head, to remain in this helpless and vulnerable position as Zexion had ordered.

In truth, Six probably wouldn't have noticed if he'd dropped his arms. Shaking, he held himself up by sheer force of will. He was right, his own hands _were_ inadequate, and the dull pain of being so stretched was worse than usual. But it was still _good_ , and all he needed were a few moments, a few short moments that Lexaeus was so selflessly giving him before he started to rock his hips up in a demanding fashion.

"Bound" though he was by Zexion's words, he wasn't utterly immobile, after all. Moaning breathlessly, Zexion started to move as well, driving himself down onto Lexaeus, meeting his own movements. He _needed_ this, needed the release that was beckoning, needed to feel Lexaeus within him, needed this control-yet-lack-of-control that he had been without for so long.

Lexaeus groaned, a shockingly harsh sound that made Zexion twitch and shudder, and attempt to speed up his movements even more. His hair was hanging in his face, and he could feel sweat begin to plaster the leather of his coat to his back. There was no more pain, only the pleasure, the indescribable feeling of having Lexaeus inside him _exactly where he belonged_ and the tense feeling in his gut that signaled approaching release.

And then the door to the room swung open, and a forty-somethingish plump woman stepped in.

Everyone froze immediately, staring. The woman's eyes widened, and her face drained of all color as the duster and rag fell from her nerveless hands. Zexion and Lexaeus stared blankly at her in return, their expressions almost comical in shock. Then she took a deep, shuddering breath and began screaming.

Zexion all but fell off the bed, wrapping himself quickly in his coat, and attempted to explain. "Ma'am, please calm down, Mr. Stone had a- a tick, you see, on his chest, and I was-"

Still screaming, the woman bolted. Zexion and Lexaeus traded identical " _Oh, shit."_ expressions, and hastened to redress.

This was probably very, very bad. It was time for more damage control.

Thankfully, Zexion considered himself good at that.


	25. Chapter 023 – Leaving London

Chapter: 023 – Leaving London.  
Location: London  
Characters: Marluxia, Vexen, Larxene, Axel, Zexion, Lexaeus.  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for lots of swearing and mentions of naughtiness.  
Summary: A disgrace! How shall our heroes ever be able to stand straight again after such _scandalous_ behaviour has been revealed!? Stay tuned! 

**Chapter 023 : London – Leaving London.**

* * *

Vexen nursed a cooling cup of coffee in his hands, fervently wishing for his three tablemates to just shut up. Five and Six would _pay_ for abandoning him here alone with the others. The reason for that abandonment he stubbornly avoided even thinking about.

The other three weren't so tactful, though. "How long do we have to wait anyways?" Axel loudly complained. "I think we're giving Lexaeus _way_ too much credit in the stamina department."

Larxene smirked. "You're welcome to go up and check in on them, Axel. I am sure we'd all love the result." She giggled and leaned on Marluxia, who gave her a rather weak smile back. Perhaps the bastard was as tired of her as Vexen was.

But of course the little tart wasn't about to stop. "Or maybe Vexen? Come on, I'll even let you off buying me that lingerie…"

"How about dessert?" He interrupted her, desperate for some quiet. "Lexaeus is paying."

It worked. At least he could ignore Number Eleven in blissful silence as the other two stuffed their faces.

After a length of time as carefully considered as unspoken, the company headed up the stairs. Axel was still licking ice cream off his chin. Savage. Probably kept himself clean that way. Vexen was considering heading off to the baths as a solemn man stepped in front of them.

"Excuse me? Are you in company of misters Read and Stone?"

Vexen exchanged a surprised look with the others. "…yes. Is there a problem?"

"If you would come with me, please?"

Vexen hesitated, but followed the man down the corridor. His mind buzzed. A trap? Had the Organization found them? Had their enemies decided to strike when they were divided? Where were Zexion and Lexaeus? But surely they'd have heard _something_ , felt a surge of power…

The man gave the door before them a short knock before ushering them all inside. It appeared to be an office of some sort. Vexen's gaze immediately focused on Lexaeus and Zexion, standing in the middle of the room. Thank Kingdom Hearts.

The two Nobodies were oddly silent, Lexaeus looking blankly into the wall and Zexion frowning in a way that was utterly unlike him. What were they doing here? Weren't they supposed to be back at the room, doing unspeakable things to each other? Surely they couldn't have been…

Vexen felt his face break into a wide smirk, and Axel ducked behind his back with a snort.

A short, fat man in a starched shirt had turned around as the door opened, his face dark as a thundercloud.

"Finally! This is an outrage! In this fine establishment! The sins of Sodom!"

Sodom? Must be some local dialect. Vexen carefully schooled his face into a mask of surprise and shock. "What?! Good sir, there must be some mistake! Those fine men would _never_ …"

"I have witnesses! Why, our poor cleaning lady, a fine upstanding woman, stepped right into their depraved acts!"

At that, Larxene's muted sniggers behind Vexen's back exploded into a howl of laughter. Vexen could hardly blame her. Thinking quickly, he grabbed her gently by the shoulder and led her to a chair, pressed her down and gallantly offered her his handkerchief.

"There, there, dear sister, I am sure there must be some mistake! Think of your weak heart!" She buried her face in the cloth, sobbing with laughter. Hopefully anyone not knowing her would take it for hysteria. She sounded convincing enough.

Zexion opened his mouth, a faint trace of pink over his cheeks. "Now _listen_ , I told you it's all a mistake-"

"A mistake! Not likely!" The manager all but shivered with indignation.

"I am shocked! Utterly shocked!" The gleam in Marluxia's eyes said he was anything but, but wouldn't let this moment pass him by. "Mr. Read! How could you? You're both a shame to our Order!"

Behind him, Axel slowly shook his head. "You think you know a guy…"

Zexion once again tried to reply, but Vexen interrupted him, still patting Larxene's shoulder. "Indeed! Just look at what you have done my poor sister! Shame! How will she ever be able to recover?" Larxene burst into a new fit of hysterical giggles, muffling them into the handkerchief.

Their replies seemed to pacify the manager to some degree. "I should say so! And you people, claiming to be pious folks! I must say, here in the Queen's own country we don't accept such depraved behaviour! I don't know about your Alabama, but here we won't stand for those crimes!"

Lexaeus muttered something under his breath. By his side, Zexion pressed his lips together until they were a thin white line, cheeks still flaming.

"I assure you, sir, that once we get back home these men will be dealt with strictly." Marluxia said smoothly. It brought a small wince to Vexen's face – may it never come to that!- but he nodded firmly.

"A shame, an outrage; among us, the True Brothers and Sisters! I never thought I'd see the day… Sinners!"

"I really ought to call the police!" The manager had retired to behind his desk, wringing his hands. "In my hotel, two men… plying the sins of the Greek! The crime of buggery! Oh, the disgrace!"

Marluxia gave the two Nobodies a disdainful look. "Sir, I do not believe it need come to that. Rest assured they will be properly punished for their crime once we return home to America." Zexion's dark look went completely ignored.

The manager gave him a relieved glance. "Well… if you say so… But you must all leave this instant! People will talk!"

"Sir! Please think of my sister!" Larxene was still making a pretty good impression of a woman overcome with frantic tears, hunched over and gasping for breath. "Surely you will not throw a young lady of such poor health out on the street in the middle of the night?"

The manager hesitated once again. "Well…"

"We will keep those sinners under strict supervision, and leave first thing in the morning," Marluxia quickly promised. "This is an equal disgrace to our Order. Please, let us keep this between us alone, as gentlemen."

Axel nodded eagerly. "Yes! We'll not let them within ten feet of each other!"

Marluxia hesitated for a fraction of a second. "And of course, a compensation for the poor traumatized cleaning lady."

Marluxia's assurances seemed to convince the man. "For the young lady, then. But I want them _out_ by first light!"

The group was silent on their way back to the room, Lexaeus' and Zexion's faces unreadable masks of stone. Larxene tagged along, clearly not wanting to miss out on this for anything. The room had obviously been abandoned in a hurry; the blankets on Lexaeus' bed were tangled, hanging half off the bed.

The heavy silence reigned a few more moments, before Vexen intoned: "Well. Behold, the scene of crime."

That broke the spell. Axel and Larxene collapsed on the former's bed, shrieking with laughter. Even Marluxia chuckled loudly. Zexion gave an offended hmpf and turned his back, very demonstratively setting about tidying up the bed.

Vexen's smirk was downright savage. "Walked in on by the cleaning lady? Really, Zexion?"  
"Yeah, you guys must've been _desperate_ , "Axel said, lifting his head from the pillow it was buried in. "Never heard of locking the door?"

Lexaeus gave him a stony gaze, but remained quiet. The Silent Hero plainly felt he had lost some initiative.

"We don't need the attention of half the city, you said. Try to behave, you said. We want to attract as little attention as possible, you said. And then you go and fuck in front of the locals!" Larxene was clearly having the time of her life, cruel smile nearly splitting her face in two.

Zexion whirled around, eyes blazing in fury. "Now you _listen_ -!"

"Oh no, now _you_ listen, Zexion." Marluxia had seated himself on the edge of the table. "Thanks to your appalling carelessness, we're out on the street as soon as the sun rises, with a hefty scandal on our heels at that. You should be grateful we talked him out of going to the authorities."

The Schemer opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again. In a gesture almost vulnerable, he turned mutely to Lexaeus. The larger man sighed deeply. "He does have a point."

"Yeah? Yeah!" Axel dried tears of laughter from his cheeks. "You guys screwed up big time!"

Vexen began ticking things off on his fingers, clearly delighted with his fellow Elders' humiliation. "Let's see… we'll have to bribe off the poor traumatized woman, who probably will never recover the full use of her wits after such a shock, spend the night packing, rise before the sun…"

"All right! All right! We screwed up. Stop it."

The pair on the bed hooted with laughter, and Zexion winced when he realized what he had said. "Stop it! What's done is done. Now we need to plan. We were already in agreement of leaving soon anyway."

"Don't try and wriggle your way out of this, dear." Larxene smiled. "Don't worry; we won't let you forget this for a long, long time." That brought a wince even from Lexaeus.

"He has a point, though. We have clearly overstayed our welcome in London. Where shall we go?" Marluxia asked.

Vexen's smile was wicked. "That one should be easy, even for you. We are going to America."

The dreary light of a misty dawn greeted them outside as they left the hotel. Most of the Nobodies were hiding yawns and rubbing the sleep out of their eyes as they hobbled down the stairs. Their new bags were unaccustomed weights digging into shoulders and backs. Vexen couldn't help but notice that Zexion's bag really was surprisingly small.  
 _Probably makes Lexaeus carry his share, the little snake._

Larxene joined them by the doors, looking quite refreshed and perky even though she couldn't have had any more sleep than anyone else. "So, gentlemen… and you two, too… where to?"

"The journey to America will have to be by boat; this world has not yet invented air travel. I believe we should be able to find ticket offices near the station."

Vexen turned out to be right. Before even an hour had passed, the group crowded before a harried looking clerk. "I still say we should take first class. I want hot water!"

"No, Marluxia," Lexaeus said, though his voice rather lacked its usual stern authority. "That is far too expensive. The third class dormitories will be just as comfortable."

"Oh, just because you like your bed activities to be public..."

"Shut up, Axel. Second class will be fine, I believe." Vexen gave the bickering pair a hard look until both nodded sullenly.

The clerk signed the elaborate tickets in an almost unseemly haste, clearly eager to see the backs of them.

On a related note, that morning the guests at the Hotel Terminus remarked to each other that the morning porridge had a pleasant aftertaste of almonds, and many sent their compliments to the kitchen, where the cooking lady shook her head in bemusement. She was quite sure no almonds were missing from the pantry.

The trains on this world were beasts of machinery, coughing forth smoke and steam and screaming in pain as they moved. Lexaeus looked relived at the prospect of fleeing the company of the others for a moment and headed for the ticket booth. The rest of the group waited in tense silence, surrounded by the bustling crowd.

"Extra! Extra! New victim for the Ripper! Gentleman found dead in Whitechapel! Extra!"

Larxene perked up at the sight of the shouting newspaper boy. "I want a paper, Vexie dear. Buy one for me?"

He gave her a long steady gaze, weighed the cost of the paper against spending the day on a train with a grumpy Larxene, then gave her a munny.

They found a compartment to claim for their own, bickering as they stuffed their bags onto the overhead rails and sat down. The jerk and cloud of steam as they set off made them cough. Larxene immediately pulled out her paper, sinking down behind it and emitting small squeals of delight from time to time. Her companions decided not to ask.

"So… this America. It can't be as bad as the people here keep on insisting." Vexen ventured. "Some of those things they wrote…"

Zexion managed to look smug for the first time since the evening before. "I managed to…secure some information at the bookstore yesterday. Here." With a wave of his hands, five identical copies of his Lexicon materialized before him. Vexen caught one before it hit the floor, snorting contemptuously. _Show-off_.  
He never liked reading Zexion's Lexicon anyway. It always felt like it was reading him back.

Larxene peeked out from behind her paper and smiled sweetly at Zexion. "Can't you put this inside there as well? I wanna keep it."

He snorted. "Oh no. You have already sullied my Archive as it is, I won't have more filth in there."

"Spoilsport."

The boat surely was grand. Even the Nobodies stopped and gawked for a moment as the gigantic craft towered up over them, dwarfing the buildings by the quay. It was a truly marvelous ship, with chimneys reaching up towards the heaven, and the people already on deck looking small as ants in comparison. Lexaeus had to fight down a twinge of uneasiness. He had been aware of this quandary ever since Vexen declared their next destination, but it still wasn't going to be pleasant. _A ship. Sea. No solid ground for days._ Stoically, he set his jaw and followed the others.

" _This_ is how you get to America?" Axel wondered.

Vexen tore his eyes off the impressing silhouette. "It's the usual mode of transportation. The Second Class entrance should be about halfway down the ship."

They found their entrance after a while, helped along by the scores of men and women in uniform that seemed to occupy every corner. Marluxia muttered darkly as they were showed to the gangway one storey below the first class passengers. Inside, chaos reigned. Passengers milled in the hallway, porters were transporting luggage back and forth, and small children were running underfoot. Marluxia's frown had deepened to a scowl by the time they reached the smiling clerk underneath the sign _Porter's Office_.

Room arrangement caused some problems. "Not a chance in Oblivion I'm sharing a room with only neophytes! And that's final." Vexen declared.

Larxene tittered at the disgraced duo. "And we won't risk putting you two alone in the same room again, darlings."

"Absurd," Zexion hissed. "You're exaggerating this beyond all proportion."

"Well, we promised the manager you'd be punished," Axel gleefully pointed out.

"Yes, the whole journey in the same room as you _must_ count." Larxene said, deftly avoiding his retaliating swat. "Zexion gets away easy, unless Vexen bores him to death…"

"Besides," said Vexen, obviously pleased with his reasoning. "The people on this world have some strange notions. They won't let Larxene share a room with any of you. I am suitable, as her older brother, but the rest of you will just not do. Zexion will just have to claim to be her fiancé."

The smaller Nobody sputtered in protest. "Not on your _life_ …"

"Punishment, Zexion. We can't just torment poor Lexaeus, can we?"

Their tickets were inspected and their baggage magically whisked off by bowing personnel obliging enough to make even Marluxia happy. Vexen inspected their tickets, now marked with cabin numbers. "Let's see here… You three will stay on this deck, in cabin… 101. We will be one storey down, in number 33." The neatness and order of the ship's design clearly pleased him - not to mention the fact that he would have a nice solid steel roof between him and Number Eleven throughout the entire journey.

At least there was a tiny window in the cabin Lexaeus was to share with Axel and Marluxia. A small comfort. Perhaps, with a view of the stars and horizon, this would be bearable. He would certainly not have been able to stand being stuck in the middle of this floating city, at the mercy of rolling waves, without anything to help him keep his bearings.  
Without even having left port, Lexaeus fervently longed to put his feet back on solid ground.


	26. Chapter 024 – Far Across the Distance

Chapter: 024 – Far Across the Distance.  
Location: The Boat  
Characters: Vexen, Axel, Larxene, Zexion, Lexaeus, Marluxia  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13. Some violence, a massive loss of human lives.  
Summary: Don't piss off the ice-mage. Really. Don't. Very bad things happen. 

**Chapter 024 : The Boat – Far Across The Distance.**

* * *

Sharing a room with the others at the hotel had been uncomfortable.  
Sharing a stateroom with Larxene was worse.  
A young woman should _not_ be able to leer so dirtily – he and Zexion had quickly abandoned all hope of being able to change into nightshirts with the horrible girl around and consequently wore their usual pants even to bed. Technically they could of course have thrown her out while changing, but for whatever reason the subject had never even been raised. Possibly because of the unnamed horrors that might come from sleeping in the same room as a potentially displeased Larxene.

At least with their current arrangements he didn't have to suffer the company of Axel and Marluxia other than at mealtimes. Which was, truthfully, a few occasions too many in itself; while Marluxia had the common sense to keep his mouth shut most of the time, Axel was worse than ever – at the last meal only the dead serious threat to have him thrown overboard had succeeded in silencing him.  
Possibly the fire elemental felt ill at ease surrounded by such vast expanses of water. Served him right.

Vexen sighed and turned away from the railing. During the handful of nights that had passed since they left land it had become something of a ritual among them all to hold out for as long as possible before giving up and heading to the cabin.  
He'd made a habit of spending the last half-hour before bed up on deck, savouring the increasingly cold and refreshing air before having to shut himself in the cramped space with the other two. It was getting close to midnight, though, and probably best to give in and face the inevitable. Only a few more nights now...

Stars twinkled needle-sharp and bright above, the faintest sting of minute ice-crystals in the air. It promised to be a clear and beautiful night.

Marluxia was not a happy man.

This did not have very much to do with their cramped lodgings or the none-too comfortable bed – all things considered it was not so bad. They'd been told that the comfort of second class on this boat was the same as first class on older ships (though judging from the rather out-of-style draperies that statement could be interpreted more or less literally) but the furniture was fine mahogany and the stateroom was neat and clean. That had pleased him.  
What did not please him was the fact he was currently alone in the small space with Lexaeus.

At least when they were all present the hatred was evenly spread and shared, a terror-balance of intense mutual dislike. And he was _almost_ certain Lexaeus hated Axel more than he did him, which was perhaps a small comfort but a comfort nonetheless.  
As soon as one of them left, though, the balance was instantly shifted, all that hatred suddenly very focused between the two who remained.  
He could hear the Silent Hero shift slightly on the bed below, and tensed automatically, then hated himself for it. He did not _want_ to be afraid of Lexaeus. Shouldn't be, truthfully, in a fair fight he was almost certain he was the tall warrior's equal. Almost.  
But Lexaeus had shaken him to the core in the forest, proven he was not always the passive, tranquil creature he appeared to be.  
He had sorely underestimated the man and consequently paid a horrible price for it. The humiliation still burned, but the fear was worse, gnawing at him from within, planting seeds of uncertainty that clashed painfully with all prior confidence, leaving him robbed of all initiative. A weakness that simply could not be allowed.

Sooner or later Lexaeus must pay for his transgression.  
But right now, caught in a small room with the huge man, lying very still and pretending to be asleep just seemed like the better option. For now.

Axel was not a happy man either.

Several weeks had passed now since their escape from Oblivion, and still he hadn't been presented with any opportunity to choose his next move; he probably should have blown up that swamp with all the others neatly trapped inside when he had the chance, so he could have gone back and reported his mission finally completed. And yet...  
And yet there was a creeping suspicion Marluxia and the others had not been the only ones put to the test when he received his orders to cleanse Oblivion of potential traitors.  
If he hadn't known better he would have suspected there were other reasons behind sending _him_ specifically to Oblivion, reasons that had more to do with keeping the precious Key of Destiny away from possible bad influences than because Axel was necessarily the best man for the dirty job. Food for thought that.  
What if he were to return triumphant at last, all traitors dealt with, only to be sent away on some other fool's errand?

On the other hand, they all _had_ managed to stay clear of the Organization and any other enemies for almost a month, which he honestly hadn't expected. Perhaps Xemnas and his cohorts weren't quite as omnipotent as they liked to pretend. Definitely worth thinking about that, too.  
If it was actually possible to leave the Organization behind, clean slate, there would be no supreme leader to send him off on more of those stupid missions. Freedom was a habit hard to break once you'd gotten a taste for it.

Which... really didn't get him anywhere at all. The passive waiting drove him insane, impatience flickering restlessly like tongues of flame along his nerves, and yet there wasn't really anything he could _do_ , more than tagging fruitlessly along for a bit longer.

He spotted a tall dark figure approaching from further down the deck and suddenly grinned.

Make that tag fruitlessly along _and_ get back on pompous idiots for certain earlier remarks about throwing people overboard along the way.

Vexen was not a particularly unhappy man, aside from the expected discontentment with the company he was about to suffer for the night.  
At least not until he passed an inconspicuous pool of shadow between two lifeboats, saw a sudden flare of fire through the corner of his eye and heard a horrible familiar voice murmur  
" Let's see just _whose_ ass ends up thrown overboard, shall we?"

It wasn't conscious thought. It wasn't even panic. Every fibre of his being reacted on purest, basest frantic instinct.

And the world turned to ice.

Axel just barely had the time to throw himself down on the cold deck as the blast was hurled towards him; the air was suddenly too cold to breathe and he could _feel_ the tips of his hair freezing and shattering.  
Amplified beyond all control by the already freezing night air the massive, almost solid cloud of ice whistled into the darkness and then there was silence once more.  
It took a few tries to gulp air into his lungs, a few more to find his voice again.  
" What the _hell_ was that?!"  
Yeah. That seemed about right.

Vexen was leaning heavily against one of the lifeboats, face grey. He was visibly shaking. He, too, seemed to have some problems breathing.

Steadying himself against the railing Axel climbed back on his feet and brushed himself off.  
" You're fucking crazy, you know that?! Damn, can't you take a joke? You almost killed me!"

A wheeze that might have been a laugh escaped the elder Nobody, but he looked anything but amused.  
" Should have. Aimed. Lower," he managed to croak, then closed his eyes and focused on sucking air into his lungs.

Axel glared.  
" Fucking idiot. Was your sense of humour surgically removed or what? And would you look at this! You broke my hair! You fucking broke my actual hair!"  
He waved a decidedly red and pathetically fuzzy icicle in the older man's face. Poison-green eyes snapped open, vivid with fury despite the man's obvious exhaustion.

" Perhaps you ought to... think twice before trying to attack people, then! Idiot!"  
Axel opened his mouth for a caustic reply about who had actually fired off a major attack, but was distracted by a sudden outcry from above; apparently something had upset the lookouts.

" If they saw you do that, we're in deep trouble," he muttered. Vexen ignored him, staring past him into the darkness, suddenly even paler.  
" Oh, no..."

The hushed tone of the scientist's usually so haughty voice was uncharacteristic enough to silence Axel's complaints. The redhead turned to follow his gaze just in time to see something impossibly big emerge from the darkness, a massive shadow against the star-strewn backdrop, perfectly placed in the ship's path. He stared, wide-eyed.  
" Tell me you didn't do that," he breathed.  
Vexen stood silent, transfixed by the approaching, inevitable disaster. The shorter man grabbed his arm and shook him violently.  
" Can't you move it? Melt it! Do something!"  
He shook his head weakly, never taking his eyes from the massive mountain of ice, and there was something dead and distant in his voice when he replied.  
" I can't."

Then the ship began to swerve, painfully slow, and for a few seconds it seemed as though they would steer clear.  
" Oh, no, no! Idiots!"  
" What now?! You _want_ us to hit it?"  
" Not from this angle! It will-..!"  
And then time was up and with a pained howl of ice clawing savagely at metal, the ship hit the iceberg.

Zexion could have been happier.  
He had snaked his way into the first class library for some quality reading in blissful solitude before bed, but even that simple joy had been cruelly thwarted.  
" I still don't see why you had to come with me," he muttered at the young woman in the armchair next to his. She gave him that sweet and utterly evil smile he'd come to resent most bitterly.  
" Why, isn't it suitable that I make my dear fiancé company for a while before we retire to bed?"  
The look on his face must have betrayed his disgust and she laughed.  
" No but really, Zexy, you're my walking library. How else do you think I'd find something suitable to read? They don't really cater to my tastes around here."  
" You're repulsive, Larxene."  
" Thank you, sweetheart. I loathe you, too."

He determinedly focused on his book, but it was hard to concentrate with the horrid woman nearby. Suddenly his teacup on the table between their chairs gave a merry little jingle against its saucer, the surface of the tea sloshing and splashing, and he looked up with a frown. Larxene lowered her copy of the massive black leather tome into her lap.  
" Did you feel something?"  
He nodded and looked around, but the faint shudder had ceased and nothing seemed out of place.

" Huh, it stopped. Maybe we just ran over a whale or something..."  
He shot the girl an annoyed glare.  
" Don't be ridiculous. It was probably some problem with an engine or propeller. This world's technology is quite crude, after all."  
" Should we go check it out, do you think?"  
He raised his book again.  
" If there's a problem we should know of, I'm sure we'll be told. You're free to go ask about it if you like, though. Preferably someplace far away from here."  
She snorted and disappeared behind her book again.  
" Wishful thinking, dear."

Lulled almost to sleep Marluxia sat up with a start when a violent shudder shook the ship, accompanied by a disconcerting crunching screech of tormented metal.  
" What the hell was that?"  
Lexaeus was already on his feet, grabbing onto the bedpost for support. Gradually the odd sound and shaking increased, then died away.  
The large warrior closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again; there was an urgent intensity to his gaze that made the Assassin shy back.  
" Get up. Something's wrong."  
" What?"  
" The engines have stopped. Can't you feel it? Something's happened. This isn't good. We have to find the others."

Debating whether he really ought to let himself get ordered around like that, Marluxia concluded he didn't particularly want an argument with the Silent Hero when the man was so obviously on edge. Grumbling under his breath he climbed out of his bed and pulled his boots back on.  
" Get your coat and supplies," Lexaeus commanded, already shouldering his own bag and heading for the door.  
Thinking an ugly word very, very loudly, Marluxia jerked on his coat, snatched up his bag and followed.

" You broke the boat!"  
Vexen was leaning heavily against the railing, knuckles stark white, staring into the darkness where the iceberg had vanished. Huge lumps of ice littered the deck and Axel ceased his yelling to give one of them an angry kick.  
" I tell you, if we have to turn the boat around and go back because of this there will be a collective democratic kicking of your scrawny ass."  
" Shut up Axel," the scientist mumbled vaguely, too drained and shaken to really listen.

The steady rumble of the engines had faded and the night was eerily still. He forced himself to pry his stiff fingers from the railing.  
" I think we made it clear. The ship doesn't seem too damaged."  
A lump of ice the size of an egg bounced against the back of his head and he turned on the impudent fire-elemental with a furious glare.

" Stayed clear? Have you taken a look around? There's ice everywhere!"  
That was undoubtedly true.  
" What the hell did you _do_ , anyway? That thing was huge!"  
And that was true, too. He tried to straighten enough to give the shorter Nobody an imperious glare, but that only made the dizziness worse.  
He felt dangerously light-headed and utterly over-exerted, as though he would dissolve into nothingness if he didn't focus all remaining energy to hold onto himself.

" The water must have been below the freezing point. The spell just solidified it. It was... not entirely intentional. Besides," he added with a touch of his usual terseness, "it was your fault for instigating the attack."  
" _My_ fault?! How was it my fault that you went ballistic and froze half the sea?"  
" You attacked me!"  
" I told you, it was a joke! You'd have to be a real idiot to actually fire off a spell in plain sight up on deck."  
" And just what are you implying by that?"  
" That _I'm_ not the idiot here. And that we'll probably want to get out of here before someone comes around asking questions."  
Annoyingly enough the neophyte was right. Probably on both accounts.

Vexen gave a reluctant nod.  
" Let's go. Hopefully no-one will have noticed, and it will all be forgotten in the morning."

Lexaeus closed his eyes and resisted the urge to lean against the wall for support; something was horribly, horribly wrong.  
Being on the constantly moving ship was an unpleasant enough experience in itself; no earth, no stability, no bearings. And now even the few points of reference that remained were out of joint; aside from the usual minute rolling of the waves it felt as though the entire ship was tilting in odd ways. It unbalanced and confounded him.  
The engines had stopped, but there was a very unnerving vibration he couldn't quite place, distant and muffled, like the faintest rumble of the ground near a waterfall.

Lexaeus hated instability, not knowing what was happening, lacking overview and control. Without solid earth beneath his feet to ground him he felt robbed of half his senses, stumbling blindly through the deceivingly normal corridors. Along the way a few doors had opened, but sensing no further disruptions, most of the other passengers seemed content to go back to sleep.

Behind him Marluxia trudged along in petulant silence. At least the Assassin had had the common sense not to question his sense of urgency.

When they finally reached the others' stateroom his apprehension had reached a point where he didn't even waste time knocking, simply slammed the door open and stepped inside, met by exactly the scene he had feared the most. The room was empty.

Marluxia hovered by his elbow, looking around at the two meticulously made beds and the rebelliously unkept one.  
" Well? Now what?"  
Lexaeus rubbed his temples, trying to shake off the sensation of lost balance, but if anything it kept getting worse.

" We have to find them. We'll try the library."  
Marluxia shot him an altogether resentful glare, but resigned with very expressive silence and followed him back through the winding corridors.

The grand getaway had come to a rather pathetic end only a few yards down the deck where Vexen had collapsed onto a bench, breathing heavily, unable to take another step.  
" Oh, come _on_ , old man! Should I go get you a cane? A wheelchair? What's _wrong_ with you!"

The scientist gave an angry hiss but was too winded for even the simplest of scathing replies. Axel gave him a few irreverent pokes.  
" A single attack will do this to you? Talk about lacking in the stamina department. How the hell you survived Sora - _twice_ \- I don't understand."  
Vexen snarled and swatted at his hand.  
" Go. Away."  
The redhead shrugged.  
" Fine. Just leave me out of it when people come asking where the ice came from."

He shoved his hands into his pockets and headed for the nearest door, eager to get out of the cold. He cast a single glance over his shoulder, then shook his head.  
Pouring everything you had into a single attack like that? Only an idiot would do something so absolutely abysmally stupid; a guy could get killed that way.

Vexen remained sitting on the bench, trying to get his breathing and the shivering under control. He just needed a few moments rest to recover, that was all.  
And the bastard was certainly exaggerating wildly; the iceberg was long gone, nothing had happened, and people weren't likely to bother about a few handfuls of snow on the deck _now_.

He had almost managed to convince himself of that by the time several sombre-looking crewmen appeared and began uncovering the lifeboats.

It was well past midnight when Zexion finished his book, discreetly dispatched it and stretched like a cat to ease the stiffness in his back.  
" Time to call it a day, I believe. Vexen gets so horribly cranky if he's disturbed once he's fallen asleep."  
Larxene looked up.  
" Is it that late already? And I was just getting to the good part, too."  
He gave the girl a sickening smile.  
" By all means, you can stay. We'll endure the lack of your company somehow, I'm sure."  
She snickered and closed her book.  
" Poor things, I wouldn't dream of letting you down like that. However would you manage without me around?"  
" I keep hoping eagerly for a chance to find out," he stated and stood from his chair.  
She just laughed and gave him a comradely slap on the back that almost made him drop his teacup.  
" Well, hope is the last thing that abandons us, dear fiancé. Stick with it; it's about the only thing a Nobody's got left to lose"

He wished he could have thought of a suitable response to that, but wordlessly settled for turning his back on her to head for the elevator.

There was something wrong with Lexaeus.

The insight had crept up on Marluxia as they kept walking up and down seemingly endless corridors and staircases, looking for their companions in the second class library, then the staterooms again, then the first class library and finally the café.

The large man walked slowly now, unsteadily, almost as though drunk, and ever so often he would trail one hand along the wall, as though needing support.

 _Interesting._

There was no earth here, no rock, no terra firma under their feet, and whatever was wrong with the ship was now apparent enough that even he could sense the shifting balance, especially in the stairs. The powerful warrior obviously didn't fare well at all on such unsteady floors, far removed from any trace of his stable element.  
Very interesting, indeed.

If there had indeed been some incident crippling the ship, well. Misery loves company; in the resulting confusion, surely other little... accidents could be suitably arranged.

The perfect opportunity to deal with Lexaeus had finally presented itself.

Still, there were other curious passengers out and about despite the late hour, making the scene a bit too public for his tastes; better the Silent Hero be lured into a more secluded area... and then made to disappear once and for all.

" Perhaps we should check the dining room?" he smoothly suggested, shifting the uncomfortable weight of his backpack to a more bearable angle. " Zexion does appreciate a cup of tea in the evening after all."

Lexaeus shot him a slightly unfocused look over his shoulder, hesitated, then nodded.  
" Yes. Perhaps. We _will_ keep looking until we find them."  
Even despite his faltering stride his voice was determined and definite.  
" Of course," the Assassin gravely agreed. " If something is indeed wrong, we should all stay together in case we have to leave here in a hurry."

 _If something is indeed wrong,_ he thought wryly, _the others will surely be up on deck, looking into it and, if necessary, getting ready to leave. But not you, Lexaeus. We'll find a nice and quiet little place below, and soon you won't have to worry about anything ever again._

With infinite patience he followed the other through the endless corridors, noting with satisfaction how the man's strength seemed to wane with each movement of the ship.

He could already feel it, taste it, the triumph of the kill, the righteous revenge for suffered injustice. It would be glorious, sweet...  
And with Lexaeus out of the way, there would be no-one left to challenge him as the natural leader of the group.

Things were definitely looking up. The inconvenience of a sinking ship was a small price to pay for such a neat improvement of the situation.

" Still enjoying the view, I see?"  
Vexen looked up, looking extremely displeased with the redhead's return.  
" What now?"  
" I couldn't find the others. They weren't in their rooms. So I thought to myself, 'Axel, is there a single other Nobody on this ship that you know exactly where to find'..? And for whatever reason, you came to mind. Scoot."

The scientist recoiled as the other sat down on the bench beside him, hands still buried deep in his pockets.  
" Damn, it's cold."  
" What do you want, Axel?"  
" Thought you might want to know that I overheard an absolutely fascinating snippet of conversation among the higher-ups of the crew."

Vexen gave the younger man a look of unveiled loathing.  
" Eavesdropping now? Is there no end to your vices?"  
The fire-elemental seemingly ignored him, looking up at the twinkling stars, and whistled a horribly out-of-tune little melody under his breath. Vexen ground his teeth.  
" Well?" he grudgingly gave in.  
" Sorry, what?"  
" What did you hear," he growled.  
" The boat is sinking."

The scientist stared at him.  
" What?" he finally managed. Looking away from the stars, Axel met his gaze, suddenly quite unsmiling, turquoise eyes blazing in the gloom.  
" Your little ice-cube gutted it like a fish. They gave it a few hours at most. Heh. I think we'll miss out on America after all. Shame. It seemed like a fun place."  
" That... can't be right. This ship was built to be unsinkable. Surely you must be mistaken."

The neophyte grinned unpleasantly.  
" Yeah, and they've only prepared the lifeboats to improve the scenery."  
" But..."  
Words failed him.  
Quite a lot of people in varying degrees of undress had come upstairs by now to see what had caused the ship to stop and were milling aimlessly about, more arriving by the minute. Some had discovered the ice on the deck and were kicking it around, throwing snowballs, laughing. Aside from the steady bellow of steam from the chimneys the night was still and clear.

Axel looked around at the growing crowd.  
" Well. Hopefully the others will show up before it gets too crowded around here. It'd be a shame if we had to jump through a portal without them, wouldn't it? Chances of ever finding any of them again would be pretty slim, I imagine."

" Look, fireworks!"  
The call echoed over the deck, the laughing people stopping and pointing, merry at first, then with smiles slowly fading as an impossible truth began to sink in.

" Still, better than the bottom of the sea, right?"

The fox-like man's face was etched with bright light and sharp shadows in the eerie glow of the flares, demonic and inhumane.

Vexen closed his eyes.

Larxene looked around the stateroom and sat down on one of the painstakingly neat beds, making sure to dishevel it as much as possible.  
" Looks like we'll be on our own for a little while longer. In the mood for a quickie?"  
Zexion paused in the process of pulling off his boots, then resumed the activity with rather stiff movements.  
" I'm sure I don't want to know what you mean."  
" Tch. Prude. Or is it just that you don't like women?"  
" Oh, no, it's entirely personal, Larxene. You disgust me to no end and breathing the same air as you sickens me."

The Savage Nymph gave a short amused bark and leaned back on her hands.  
" It's so darling when you're honest and straight-forward. You should try it more often."  
She sat back against the wall with a small smirk, clasping her hands around one knee.  
" Honestly, Zexion, you're not my type. You just have this big shiny button that says ' _Hi, I'm issues-with-intimacy, push me!'_. Girl would have to be _really_ desperate to actually consider jumping you."

The Schemer huffed haughtily, refusing to be either goaded or offended, and folded away his blankets to crawl into bed. He'd barely gotten his feet off the floor when a commotion broke out outside. Sharp, urgent knocks could be heard on all doors along the corridor, and a loud voice shouted "All passengers on deck with lifebelts on!"

The two Nobodies exchanged a glance.

" That doesn't sound too good," Larxene commented. " Maybe it wasn't just a whale after all."  
Zexion got back on his feet and grabbed his boots again with a less than pleased expression.  
" It's probably just a safety precaution. If there had been any real danger they would have sounded the alarm much sooner."  
" You think? Hey, where are the lifebelts, anyway?"  
The young man shot her an exasperated look.  
" _We_ don't need lifebelts, Larxene. If there really is a problem we'll just take a dark corridor out of here."  
" Without the others?"  
That made him pause.

" I'm sure we'll run into them on the way up. We can stop by the others' room on our way and make sure they heard the alarm."  
" What about Vexen?"  
" What _about_ Vexen? I'm sure he's more than capable of taking care of himself."  
She shrugged.  
" Fine. Let's go then."

On her way out she made sure to quickly rummage around in the scientist's bag, grabbing a few particularly interesting objects, just in case. The self-important Elder she could do without, but it would be a horrid shame if those nice scalpels and needles were to be left behind.

By now the panicking crowd below deck had finally began to thin out, passengers having headed for the deck like flustered rats. Soon all the corridors and public spaces below should be suitably empty.  
Which was just as well, Marluxia concluded; by now they were walking with ice-cold water halfway to their knees. It'd probably be quite uncomfortable if it spilled into his boots.

At least Lexaeus didn't even need stringing along anymore; the urgency in his eyes was as fervent as ever, but his steps were faltering, and his usually faultless sense of direction completely out of commission. They had walked in circles deep inside the ship for the better part of a half hour, coming up against dead ends, locked doors and unfamiliar areas usually only used by the crew.

The floor was sloping notably now, making it rather difficult to walk and setting off the water in currents occasionally strong enough to threaten to trip them up.  
Watching Lexaeus flounder along in apparent confusion and distress made it well worth the discomfort, though. A few more minutes of this, and the actual kill would be mere child's play.  
He vaguely contemplated whether such blatant utilizing of the other's weakness could be considered cowardly, but decided against it; Lexaeus had used his element to his advantage in the forest, it was only suitable the vulnerability caused by the lack of it was used to Marluxia's advantage now.  
He felt his palms itch for the presence of his scythe.

It had been several minutes since they last saw a living soul, and even if a few potential witnesses should have the bad taste of bursting in on the scene, this floor would be flooded soon enough. A few more bodies lost with the sinking ship would hardly cause comment.

They passed a corner and reached yet another dead-ended corridor, the path blocked by massive, closed doors up ahead. The Silent Hero paused and closed his eyes with a frown, as though listening to something only he could hear.  
Marluxia smiled thinly and reached out to the darkness, calling on his power to summon his scythe. The time had come.

And then the doors ahead burst open with force enough to almost tear them off their hinges and a massive wall of water roared down upon them.

It was _cold_ , beyond cold; the freezing temperature was a massive physical blow, knocking the air out of the Assassin's lungs and paralyzing him. He kicked weakly, tried to fight the torrent to get his head above the water but was flung around like a leaf in a whirlwind.  
He was slammed against the corridor walls, managed to surface long enough to gulp down air before being dragged under again.  
There was no sign of Lexaeus.

Then he was jerked to a painful stop; his rucksack had caught on the unyielding remains of some kind of fixed furniture on the floor. He twisted frantically in the roaring torrent, trying to get loose, but his coat ties and cowl had tangled hopelessly in the bag and he couldn't get it off.  
Fingers stiff and clumsy with tension and cold struggled with the zipper to his coat, but in the rushing water he kept losing his grip.

He was running out of air and for the first time since they learned of the disaster he felt a sharp, painful stab of fear. _He_ shouldn't end like this, not like this, not trapped like a drowning rat in the broken metal shell of a ship that should have been unsinkable!

He desperately reached for his power again, tried to open a corridor, but the onslaught carried all traces of darkness away like streaks of black ink though the water, making it impossible to focus enough power to create an escape-route.  
His vision was going dark and he wanted to scream with fury at this undignified, horrible end, but had no more air.

Then strong hands grabbed him, not bothering with the zipper but simply ripping the black leather apart, and he was wrenched loose and pulled to the surface.  
Lexaeus was towering over him, water reaching him to the waist, apparently shaken back to his senses by the cold water. He calmly put the Assassin down, giving him a few firm slaps between the shoulder-blades to help him breathe.  
" Come on," the stoic warrior said, turning to lead the way. " We have to get out of here."

Marluxia stood gasping for air, hair plastered against his face, shivering with cold and just staring at the massive figure ahead of him.  
He tried to speak, ended up coughing violently, tried again.  
" Why?!" he finally managed, only barely managing to keep his balance in the surging water.

Lexaeus cast an unreadable look over his shoulder.  
" Because the corridor is flooding. We don't want to be trapped here."  
He gaped.  
" No, I meant-..."  
He bit down and stopped himself from finishing the sentence. Most likely Lexaeus had never realized how he'd been goaded along, just how close he'd come to getting slain only a few minutes ago.

And _Lexaeus had saved his life._

Shocked to the core he began wading after the tall man, driven more by survival instinct than conscious thought.  
There was no doubt about it. If not for Lexaeus' intervention he would have been dead now, his fading essence spilling into the freezing water just like the darkness he had ineffectively tried summoning.

There was no uncertainty at all at the core of his being, the thoughts, ambitions and twisted codes of honour that made him _him_ what this meant.  
 _A life for a life._  
If not for the previous score to be settled, he would have owed the Silent Hero his life.  
As things stood now they were even; a life spared for a life saved.

He had been effectively robbed of his revenge.

 _Damn him!_

He clenched his shaking hands, grinding his teeth as he struggled through the steadily rising water.

 _Curse him, damn him, condemn him to hell for all eternity!_

It was, short and simple, utterly unfair.

 _Failure._  
The word was bitter, so very bitter on his tongue, leaving behind a pungent aftertaste of incompetence and inadequacy.

 _Again._  
That hardly made it better.

The laughter was long gone, even the uncertain eerie stillness had begun giving way to panic among the hundreds of people milling about the deck. Somewhere nearby music was playing, the heartening sound ghostly and near macabre accentuated by the screams of those desperate to enter the last lifeboats, the cries of children as families were dragged apart, the hysterical weeping of those who had lost all hope mixing with the grim shouts of the crew.

The scene was utterly unreal.

 _This was... not supposed to happen._

It was a disaster of magnificent proportions. It had soon become apparent there weren't anywhere near enough lifeboats for all passengers, and several of the first boats had been sent off half-empty. Hundreds, possibly thousands would not survive this night.

Vexen could not remember the last time had been so grateful for the emptiness in his chest; even to his detached, analytical mind such a massive, purposeless loss of lives was _inefficient_ , it was messy, unnecessary and irksome.

Had he had a heart he would have been horrified.

His hands shook, from the earlier exertion rather than distress, but even lack of emotion aside it was painfully apparent that this was a serious drawback, an utterly unnecessary obstacle for them all and, honestly without question, _his fault_.

" Still no sign of the others," Axel stated by his shoulder, making him jump. The fire elemental rubbed his hands together and the tip of his nose was turning red from the cold.  
" They're probably still somewhere inside, having the sense to enjoy the warmth as long as they can. If they haven't left already, of course."

" Don't be foolish," he managed to snap back.  
" Lexaeus and Zexion would never leave without each other, probably not Marluxia and his little whore either."  
" Well," Axel intoned, looking out over the still sea, speckled now with lifeboats and the occasional body, " Maybe they all found each other. You've gotta admit, none of the others would mind leaving without _us_."

Vexen gave him a sharp look.  
" What do you mean?"  
The redhead snickered, firing him that utterly unpleasant grin of his.  
" Oh, come on Vexen. They all hate my guts - and no-one in the group would trust me further than you could throw Lexaeus. Which isn't far. And _you_ ," he quickly continued as the scientist seemed about to interrupt him, " You haven't exactly been busy making friends either. The only thing you've contributed with since we left Oblivion is, frankly, loads of whining and complaining. Oh, and that iceberg. But I don't think that counts in your favour."

Vexen stared up at the younger man, realized his mouth was open and quickly shut it.  
When put like that, it suddenly seemed like a very real possibility that the despicable neophyte might be right. _He_ certainly wouldn't have risked his hide staying behind to look for Axel, had he been with the rest of the group. Quite the opposite, frankly. And as for himself...  
He clenched his hands and wished he could be angry, affronted, but he was still too weak, there was no energy at all to spare on hollow ghosts of emotion.

Axel shrugged philosophically.  
" We'll see. If they're still around they'll probably show up sooner or later. If nothing else they should be easier to find once this lot is gone; whatever still moves after a few minutes in that water is most likely a Nobody."  
" You're vile," he hissed, remembering all too well the sickening grin the younger man had given him even as he watched him burn, utterly without mercy or care.  
The other shrugged again.  
" Maybe. But _I'm_ not the one who broke their boat in the first place."

That _almost_ actually hurt.

" I'll go have another look," Axel declared and straightened. " And you might want to consider moving a bit unless you like swimming. The water has reached the deck up ahead now."

" Damn it all!" Zexion exclaimed. " There's too much panic, too many people! And it's _too cold_! I can't pick up their scents."  
Larxene crossed her arms and scowled.  
" Lot of good you are," she muttered. " So now what? Should we try to get into a lifeboat?"  
" Hell no! I'm not leaving until we find Le-... the others."  
She tilted her head slightly and grinned; watching the usually haughty and impassive Elder worked up to such frustrated agitation was quite entertaining. He caught her look and scowled, making an effort to collect himself.

" Should we go back inside, then?"  
He shook his head impatiently.  
" Too much water by now; our rooms are probably flooded already. They've _been_ here, I can sense them, but the scents are too disturbed by all these people!"

She shrugged.  
" If they've been by here, they're probably around somewhere. We'll just have to keep looking."  
" Yes," he said, a touch tersely, " I know."

As they elbowed their way through the throng of frightened people she couldn't help but think that looking for certain Nobodies in the crowd would have been a whole lot easier if they had both been quite a bit taller.

Getting back outside turned out to be quite a bit harder than getting in, Lexaeus concluded; it was a constant race against the rising water, and by now the ship was slanting at such a steep angle it was quite difficult to walk the corridors without holding onto the wall.

The painfully cold water was oddly refreshing, though, helped keeping his head clear and his mind focused despite the impossible angles and lurching movements of their entire little claustrophobic world.

Marluxia trudged along beside him in equally determined silence, keeping up the pace despite his lips slowly turning blue, the rather thin contemporary shirt he'd worn under his coat providing little protection against the cold.

Lexaeus briefly considered opening a portal to escape the maze-like belly of the sinking ship and teleporting to the deck above, but with the entire world still unbalanced he didn't quite trust his own judgement – and considering his rather pitiful drenched appearance, Marluxia was probably in no shape to work the darkness with any precision either.

These were familiar hallways, though, he was quite certain it would only take one, maybe two flights of stairs more to get outside.

Around them the ship groaned and twisted in agony as the water and her own weight tore and wrenched at the already tormented metal.

In the end he was forced to use his power yet again, despite the strain.

Water was lapping at his ankles and the stern had risen so sharply out of the water that people, furniture and assorted debris kept sliding down the deck and into the bottomless ocean. The cold was a killer; once they hit the water many never surfaced again.  
There was no more music.

He'd hoped to be able to stay on the boat for as long as possible, hoping desperately for the others to show up, but it was no longer sinking slowly and gracefully but rearing and shuddering in defiance; it was either leave or end up in the water, and he did not much appreciate the thought of swimming.

" Come on, come _on_ ", Axel hissed impatiently, rubbing his arms and jumping up and down to keep warm, understandably even less thrilled than he with the prospect of ending up in the water.

It was painfully slow, prompting the almost freezing water to solidify under his hands. By the time he'd managed to conjure a small ice-float sturdy enough to carry their weight he slumped down on it, barely conscious.

He was distantly aware of Axel sending them away from the deck with a steady kick, then the redhead's swearing as those still alive in the water threatened to pull them down in their maddened attempts to get to safety.  
There was the hateful roar of fire, the foul stench of burnt flesh and he choked.  
" Stop!" he managed to cry out, forcing himself to sit up.  
" What," Axel yelled back, " You'd rather we let them drag us under?!"  
Another crackling roar and more smoke.

He turned enough to grab his once-murderer's wrist in an unexpectedly bone-crushing grip, jerking him close.  
" If you melt the ice," he hissed, "you'll end up in the water with them. Understand?"  
The fire-elemental's eyes were wide with surprise at the unexpected proximity and force, but nodded obediently.

In the end they sat back to back, using chakrams and vicious kicks to keep the frenzied people away. It was foul and messy, but at least there was no more fire.

Marluxia shuddered as they finally entered the cold night air; once they'd outraced the rising water the inside of the ship had still been decently warm. Out here it was bitter cold and his breath crystallized into small puffs of mist; he could feel his wet hair slowly freezing.

Lexaeus didn't even pause however, just kept walking, ploughing through clusters of screaming and weeping passengers, calling out for Zexion.  
Not wanting to be left behind alone on the dying ship he muttered a curse and hurried after the man; the slanting deck was slippery and his boots wet and ever so often people would grab onto him for support.

He swore out loud when a frantic woman almost tore him off balance and just barely regained his footing in time. He jerked himself free and pushed her away, watching as she fell away, slipped and disappeared into the hungry water below.

Among the thrashing ant-like humans and more distant dark shapes of the lifeboats he spotted something else in the water, too pale and irregular to be a boat.  
 _Ice_.

Ice with black-clad shapes resting on it. It simply had to be...  
A flare of fire erupting near the edge of the ice-float confirmed his suspicions.

"Lexaeus!" he bellowed, struggling to catch up with the larger man. The other turned at the sound of his name and Marluxia pointed at the water.  
" There. Ice. It's them."

The Silent Hero narrowed his eyes, impatiently sweeping panicking passengers out of his way for a clear view.  
" All of them?"  
In the chaos, who could tell?  
He shrugged.  
" Enough of them. We have to get off the ship. Come on."

A collective outcry rose from the ship as all lights suddenly flickered and went out.  
All of a sudden the night was very, very dark, the surreal scene lit only by distant starlight, and in the sudden darkness the pained moan of the breaking ship suddenly seemed so much louder.

Another falling body slammed into him and almost knocked him off his feet. He staggered and snarled at the hesitating Elder.  
" You stay if you want; I'm out of here. The ship is falling apart."

Torn by indecision Lexaeus swept his gaze across the deck, then at the water far below. In the darkness the ice-float was only a pale blur, it was impossible to see how many dark silhouettes were on it, or to whom they belonged.

Marluxia gave him a final seething glare and began working his way down the sloping deck towards the water.

Zexion hissed an endless litany of rather creative curses between his teeth as he pushed his way through the agitated crowd. After the lights went out all humanity seemed to have abandoned many of the struggling shapes around them; they would claw and shove at anyone nearby to drag themselves to safety higher up towards the rising stern, and on more than one occasion he'd had to use force to avoid getting crushed or trampled.

Larxene was at his side, slashing at anyone coming too close with her kunai, no longer very amused by the situation.

" It's hopeless!" she hissed, seizing his sleeve and spinning him around. " I told you we should have grabbed one of the boats when we had the chance! We'll never find the others like this; if this keeps up we're lucky to get out of here alive!"

He opened his mouth to snarl at the stupid bitch to shut up, explain _again_ that he had no intention of leaving until he had located Lexaeus, when suddenly the constant creaking of the ship changed, became a defiant death-howl accompanied by the fearsome crack and rumble of breaking wood and metal.  
The deck shook beneath them and they were sent flying as slowly, majestically the ship began breaking apart.

Larxene gave a very uncharacteristic gasp and instinctively clung tightly to him as the world plunged from below them, and even as the ship collapsed and shook all around he was quite grateful the kunai still clutched in her hands had only barely grazed his ear instead of slitting his throat when they both hit the deck again.

Amidst all the chaos he suddenly caught a vivid whiff of darkness tinged with heat and smoke; the unmistakable scent of Axel's fire. The trace was clear, even as the world spun, and he locked onto it, could only hope fervently the others were there, too.

" Let's go!" he called, shoving the weight of the small woman off of him and began heading for the railing. She swore at the unceremonious treatment but followed him on hands and knees as the breaking ship shuddered violently beneath.

He reached the edge and clung tightly to the railing, scanned the waters below for what he knew must be there; a tinge of unnatural, dark-tinted frost now, too, meaning Vexen was down there somewhere as well.  
" There!" he yelled in triumph as the starlight glinted on something crystalline in the water.

The ship gave another shudder and began tilting again as the water quickly flooded the cracked shell, and he wasted no more time. Taking a deep breath he climbed the railing, then kicked away and leapt.

The water was cold, cold, cold without his coat, and swimming the short distance to the ice-float turned out an unexpectedly gruelling task.  
Behind him the ship's last creaks and groans mixed with the shrill screams of dying people; Marluxia clenched his jaw and struggled on.

As he finally reached the makeshift raft his hands were too numb to find any handhold and he floundered blindly until someone, he couldn't tell who, grabbed his shirt and helped drag him onto the ice.

Lexaeus was on the float as well, towering, the look in his eyes wild.  
" Zexion," he asked, hoarse voice severe, " Where is Zexion?"

" Here," a somewhat shaking but clear voice replied from the water, and the large warrior simply knelt down and plucked the small Nobody up as though he was a drenched kitten.

" Are we all here?" came Axel's voice in the starlit darkness. Vexen was a slumped shape next to the fire elemental, having poured his last strength into expanding the ice to carry them all before passing out.  
" Not Larxene," Zexion noted, voice calm and matter-of-fact now that he was out of the water, although he seemed in no real hurry to shrug off Lexaeus' hand on his shoulder.  
" She was next to me on the boat, but I haven't seen her since I hit the water."  
" Ah, but I'm sure the disaster had _some_ downsides, too," Axel mused.

Suddenly the distinctive whisper of shadow cut through the distant screams and a dark portal opened in their midst. Before anyone had the time to react, Larxene daintily stepped through and looked around.  
" Hello, boys," she grinned. " You look nice and wet."

Less than a hundred yards away the remains of the colossal ship finally disappeared beneath the surface along with any unlucky souls that hadn't made it into the lifeboats.

Marluxia made a furious gesture at the Savage Nymph, the impression only slightly spoiled by his shivering hands and clattering teeth.  
" How dare you use a dark corridor without permission! You know they're a risk we can't afford!"  
She scoffed.  
" So we're planning to hang around here, then? We're obviously leaving soon anyway, so it doesn't really make a difference, now does it? I'll bet you're just cranky because you didn't think of doing it yourself."

She smirked.  
" Unlike you sorry lot I'd rather not get wet when I have the brains to avoid it."

In rare and glorious unity a number of hands reached out at once, and very, very democratically shoved the shrieking, flailing girl off the ice-raft.


	27. Chapter 025 – Extremes (XXX)

Chapter: 025 – Extremes (XXX)  
Location: The Float  
Characters: Lexaeus, Zexion, Axel, Marluxia, Larxene, Vexen  
Rating/Warnings: NC17/Sex, swearing.  
Summary: Out of the frying pan, and into the fire. Or, rather, out of the freezer, into the fire, and then into the blizzard. Some days, you just can't get a break. 

**Chapter 025 : The Float – Extremes (XXX).**

* * *

"So… now what?" Axel had his hands between his thighs, fruitlessly trying to warm them up. The cold was killer for the Flurry of Dancing Flames, and even his monumental inner warmth wasn't lasting.

Zexion had allowed Lexaeus to wrap him up in his arms and hold him, though he still shivered, and badly. "We must go," he said firmly. "We cannot stay here."

Larxene prodded the still-unconscious Vexen with her foot rather daintily. "And this genius?"

"He'll have to come with us," Lexaeus said, in a tone that brooked no argument. "I will carry him through a portal. We must go, soon. Someplace warmer."

Marluxia was too cold to even bristle at being so brusquely ordered about. "Much warmer," he agreed, blowing on his hands, shuddering. "Fast. Quickly."

"Who will open it, then?" Zexion rubbed his hands a bit more. "Larxene has already proved herself solid enough to do so, perhaps she…"

"That was before you pushed me in the water, you sick fucks!" Larxene shrilled. "Make someone else do your dirty work, you bastards, I just want to get warm!"

"Fuck me with a spoon, I'll do it," Axel snarled, standing quickly. "Fucking hell, we don't need to sit here and have a shitfit about it. Yeesh." He cracked his knuckles. "Someplace warmer, huh? Well, we'll see where that is…" Waving a hand, a he opened a swirl of inky black before them. "Awright, get moving. Lexaeus'll get Sleeping Beauty over there, the rest of you get goin'."

"I do hope you know where you're taking us," the Assassin said, giving Axel a piercing look as he stepped up to the portal. "And not sending us off on some wild goose chase. And also not taking us anywhere too unpleasant."

"Wait, Marluxia," Lexaeus held up a hand. "If I am to take Vexen, I think it would be best if you carried this pack." He held it up, expression completely blank. "Since you did lose your own."

"Through no fault of mine!" Marluxia began, eyes narrowing slightly at the implied insult.

"Shut up and move," Axel said helpfully, watching him step through. "Larxene, you're next."

Larxene eyed the portal warily. "Where does it lead to?"

"Someplace warmer," Axel said, and he grinned, showing teeth that may have been just a touch pointier than normal people's. "Get moving, this is taking a lot of energy, and we don't dare keep it open for long."

"But I don't want to risk ending up somewhere miserable," Larxene snapped. "Or, knowing you, Hell."

"Bitch," Axel, still grinning, raised a leg and planted a solid boot to her ass. Squealing with indignant rage, she toppled through the portal headfirst.

Lexaeus paused, glancing between Vexen and the still-shaking Zexion in his arms. "…"

"Awww, how cute," Axel mocked, crossing his arms. Sweat was starting to stand out on his forehead. "He can walk, rockhead, get moving, c'mon, I don't have all goddamn day!"

"I am reluctant," he began, then stopped. "It is most possible that he will collapse."

"Then I'll carry him," Axel grinned, and it was unpleasant and frightening. Lexaeus' grip only tightened around Zexion.

"I will _not_ collapse," Zexion said, irritation coloring his voice as he scrambled to his feet. " _Really_ , Lexaeus, I'm not a china doll!"

"Of course," Lexaeus murmured, letting him go, moving to scoop Vexen up quickly. Axel smothered another grin. _More rocks amidst the river of the happy Lexy-Zexy land, huh?_

Zexion brushed himself off and made his way over to the portal, giving Axel one careful, distrustful look before glancing back at Lexaeus and stepping through the portal. Axel grinned to himself. It was pretty fun being the one no one trusted, actually.

Lexaeus wasted no time at all in scooping up Vexen and stalking through the portal. "At least someone takes me seriously," Axel told the empty ocean. The screams had stopped some time ago, and he just _knew_ that everyone out there not in a lifeboat was already dead.

 _Shit,_ he thought, and smothered a shiver, stepping quickly through the portal. _I hate this place._

 _Let's hope wherever we end up next is warmer._

"You _fuckwit_!"

Zexion couldn't be entirely sure that that was what Larxene had screamed at Axel as he appeared beside them. He was sheltered against Lexaeus' broad chest, avoiding the blowing, stinging sand that swirled around them.

"Where the _hell_ are we?" The Savage Nymph immediately set upon the hapless Axel, flailing at him. "A desert? You asshole! You dumped us in the middle of a desert! In the middle of a damn sandstorm!"

"Ow, hey, knock it off, you crazy bitch!" Axel raised his hands to deflect her blows and was rewarded with eyes and mouth full of sand. Spitting, he turned his back to the wind quickly. "Ok, so maybe I fucked up a little," he admitted, voice hoarse from the sand. "Now what?"

"You're so damned _good_ at asking that question!" It was Marluxia's turn to berate Axel, his voice barely carrying over the wind. "And, it seems, so very, very _poor_ at answering it!"

"Hey, anyone coulda made this mistake," Axel had to turn to shout back at him, and got more sand up his nose for his trouble. "You said somewhere warmer! _This is somewhere warmer_!"

"A desert!" Larxene shrilled, lightning dancing along her fingers. "With no water!" She paused, then, admiring the way the lightning danced from her fingers to the grains of sand. There was so _much_ static electricity on the air that the entire place suddenly stank of ozone.

"Shit, brilliant idea, Holmes," Axel muttered to himself. "Look, let's find a town or something, ok?"

"Yes," Lexaeus agreed, reluctantly pulling away from Zexion to hoist the still-unconscious Vexen into his arms. "Marluxia should be able to sense an oasis."

"There's nothing," Marluxia intoned, dully. "Not for miles. If we turn north we are headed towards some vegetation."

"North it is, then," Zexion struggled to his feet. He was still cold and tired, the winds doing nothing to warm him, even with the heat of the desert.

The winds died almost as soon as they started moving. Lexaeus made a thoughtful sound, shifting Vexen in his arms. "The weather is quite unpredictable here."

Axel scrambled up a dune, slipping and sliding as he attempted to scramble up to the top. "Let's see what we can…" he trailed off, ending the sentence in a long, low whistle.

Frowning, Zexion abandoned all pretense of dignity and scrambled up the dune to stand beside him. "What is so- Powers." He bit his lip, ignoring the gritty sand that coated it.

Dunes of sand. Miles upon miles of them. Something dark stood at the edge of the horizon, though whether it was a city or a mirage, Zexion couldn't bet money. He was finally starting to warm up, and when he tried to test the shape, there was no result- it neither wavered nor sharpened to his sight. _I'll have to get closer to something before I can determine if it is true or not,_ he realized. As a master of illusion, he would be able to inform others if what they saw was mirage or fact- a useful thing in a desert.

"We should get moving," he finally said. "We'll head for that dark patch."

Axel nodded, raking a hand through his hair. "Well, I warmed ya all up, didn't I?" he grinned, but it faded, and he slouched a bit as he slogged his way back down the sand dune to join the others.

"We'd better hurry," Marluxia said, and his voice held a touch of desperate eagerness that they had not heard before. "I want to reach the oasis before dark."

"That ain't gonna happen," Axel scoffed, eyeing the sun, which seemed to be diving for the horizon. "Let's just get as far as we can, huh? We don't have much water with us."

"If any," Lexaeus rumbled, starting towards the place Zexion had indicated. In his arms, Vexen groaned, still unconscious, but with unpleasant dreams from the heat.

"So, where are we?" Larxene finally spoke up, after half an hour of silent, tiresome trudging through loose sand.

"A desert," Axel snapped, sick of sand in his boots. He unbent only slightly and emptied his pockets of sand. "If I'm right, it's Agrabah."

"And if you're wrong?" Lexaeus arched an eyebrow, frowning.

"I'm never wrong," Axel scoffed, but he slouched his shoulders a little more.

"Hmmph." Marluxia had withdrawn more into himself, and couldn't even bring himself to reply to Axel's brash statement, or pick at him for his possible failure. He hated this place, its dry, cracking heat that, after the first few minutes of arrival, was nearly torturous.

And there were no plants. None at all. The soil moisture was absolutely non-existent as well, so unless he wanted to waste a great deal of energy and strength he could not afford to lose, he could not summon any kind of plant whatsoever.

The helplessness was not a feeling he enjoyed, and not something he particularly wanted to continue feeling. It was as if he were trapped in rock again, frozen in place…

His eyes flicked to Lexaeus. Though he carried Vexen, the large Nobody's eyes were always on Zexion, ensuring that the small Nobody did not stumble or fall. Though Zexion was keeping his eyes half-shut, focusing what energy he had on sorting out what was mirage and what was reality, he was clearly not unaware of Lexaeus' attentions, and kept close to him at all times.

Marluxia wrapped his arms around himself in a vain attempt to stave off a shiver and chill. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, staining the Silent Hero's hair blood red.

 _A life for a life._

 _Damn you._

Lexaeus stopped abruptly once it became too dark to see. It was also rapidly growing too cold to continue- Axel was back to blowing on his hands to warm them. "We shall rest here," he said, and carefully put Vexen down. The Nobody was conscious again, though extremely weak still, and unable to do much more than hold onto Lexaeus with his own strength, carried along piggy-back style.

"Yeah," Axel agreed, and after drumming his finger against some sand, simply gestured and fire sprang up nearby. "What a pain in the ass," he said sullenly, sinking down beside it. "Nothing to burn out here except sand."

"You will make do," Lexaeus said firmly, moving over to Zexion's side, abandoning Vexen. The ice-wielder shied away from the fire, taking a chance to enjoy the cold desert night.

"So what in hell happened to the damn boat?" Larxene snuggled up to Axel, his earlier trespasses forgiven in the coldness of the night.

"Oh, yeah," Axel grinned, firelight glinting off of his teeth. "Forgot to mention that…"

He was staring directly at Vexen, lying stretched out on the cold sand far from the fire. The Elder simply snorted and rolled over, presenting his back to the others. Soon every gaze was on him, and the back of his neck prickled with it.

"I decided to play a totally harmless joke on the old man," Axel began, settling into a cross-legged position, still grinning. "He overreacts like _whoa_ , and before I know it, there's a giant goddamn chunk of ice floating right in front of the ship."

"Good lord," Zexion rubbed his forehead. "Vexen, there's no way you could be so _stupid_ …"

"Shut up," Vexen snapped, twitching. "There was fire, and he threatened…"

Everyone's gaze swung back to Axel, every eyebrow raised. The Neophyte held up his hands. "Whoa, fellas, back off. I just joked that I'd throw him overboard. The light was just for show, yanno?"

"You were both extremely irresponsible," Lexaeus rumbled. "Because of you, we have lost supplies and a safe place to hide, and we have had to broadcast our presence to any pursuers, if there are any."

"Yeesh, it was just a joke," Axel shrugged. "Besides, he sunk the boat. Killed a lot of people, too."

"Yes," Vexen snapped. "Let's keep bringing that up, please do."

"Shut up, for heaven's sake," Marluxia snarled. The lack of water and organic material was making him surly and sulky. "I want to sleep."

"Yeah, yeah." Axel closed his eyes, settling back and pulling Larxene closer. "Get comfy, boys, it's going to be a cold night."

With nothing to sustain it, the fire went out as soon as Axel's attention was pulled from it. The darkness closed in around the little group. There was no moon, and the starlight was weak.

It was very, very cold.

Lexaeus' arms were loose around Zexion, but the larger man radiated warmth far more than the sand did. He had spread a tarp on the ground for them and his large coat over them, ignoring the chill of just lying in his shirtsleeves. Zexion curled quietly in Lexaeus' arms, running his fingers along the muscles in the broad forearms.

The Cloaked Schemer had unnaturally good night-vision. Though it was faint, the starlight provided enough light so that he could actually see Lexaeus' arms around him, though little else.

Frowning quietly, he rubbed the arms a little bit more, sighing as Lexaeus nuzzled into his hair. There was much he wanted to say, and nothing he could, as the others would no doubt hear.

Lexaeus shifted a little, and the boulder they'd set their back against migrated around, cutting them off from the others, subtly, silently. Another rose to take its place at their back, cutting off the wind. "Something's troubling you." It wasn't a question.

Zexion silently thanked Anyone for the Silent Hero's innate knowledge of his wants and needs. "In a way," he admitted, shifting so he was facing the larger Nobody. "Today was… trying."

"Very," Lexaeus agreed, rubbing his back gently. "I did not enjoy it." He stopped, running one hand through the sand. "…though I do enjoy being back on land." A shudder ran through his powerful frame, and his arm tightened around Zexion, just a touch. "I did not like the boat."

"At least you didn't sink it," Zexion said, rubbing his forehead. He sighed and rested his cheek against Lexaeus' chest. "I looked for you," he said, feeling cold despite the small coat over them and the warmth of Lexaeus' body. "I couldn't find you."

"I did the same," Lexaeus rumbled, pressing a kiss to Zexion's hair. He did not have the Schemer's sensitive nose, but he enjoyed the dark scent of his lover nonetheless. "I did not think I would see you again."

"Nor I, you," Zexion admitted, closing his eyes. "I did not enjoy it." Running through the corridors, scenting tantalizing hints of his lover, but unable to utilize his full ability… and then, abandoning him at the end.

Yes, that was what hurt the most. The fact that he had been forced to leave him behind, if Lexaeus had not already found a way off of the ship. He only had to look up at Lexaeus' face to know that he felt the same.

 _Guilt_. It was an entirely foreign emotion to a Nobody. Most emotions _were_. He pressed a hand to his chest, brow furrowed, as if by some strength of will, he could make it go away.

Lexaeus sighed heavily and closed his eyes, rubbing Zexion's back a little more. It felt better, made the heavy feeling in his chest ease. "I do not wish to be separated again," he finally said.

Zexion's lips twisted in a faint smile. "Nor do I," he agreed, pressing just a bit closer, shivering as Lexaeus' soothing hand rubbed steadily lower and lower along his back. A lazy smirk touched his lips. "If you want something," he added, "it'd be best just to take it."

"I see," Lexaeus rumbled, slipping his hand down the back of Zexion's pants carefully. "Sound advice."

"You only live twice, in our case," Zexion deadpanned, leaning up to nip at his chin.

"Indeed," Lexaeus rumbled, the sound like boulders crashing together. He squeezed one cheek of Zexion's ass in a firm grip.

It took no time at all to bring Zexion to full arousal, something Lexaeus was no doubt horridly pleased with. Zexion brought up a hand to stop him as he started to tug down his trousers. "The sand," the smaller Nobody made a face. "I've no interest in it getting… everywhere…"

"Sand is merely very fine rock," Lexaeus murmured. "There will be no sand involved, Zexion. Trust me."

Zexion closed his eyes and bit back a breathy moan as Lexaeus' skilled fingers brushed against his entrance. "Ah. Yes, of course. How… foolish of me not to… remember, oh…"

"Lexaeus? Zexion? Are you awake?"

Lexaeus looked up as Zexion tilted his head back to observe their intruder. A nearly-blue Marluxia was peering at them from between the boulders. Zexion immediately reached up and twisted his fingers in Lexaeus' shirt to keep him from pulling away.

"It's… so very cold," the Neophyte said, teeth chattering. "I cannot sleep, and Axel and Larxene, they would not… please, I have no coat, no blanket… If we share space, and then, body heat…"

"Go to hell," Zexion growled, eyes blazing. "We are rather _busy_ at the moment."

Marluxia didn't seem to realize what he had interrupted, wringing his white hands miserably. "Please, I am… so very cold…"

"No," Zexion said coldly, nuzzling up at Lexaeus as if to say _Look, see? This is warm and large and_ mine _, not yours._ "Go away, Marluxia. Go bother the others. Perhaps Axel will set you on fire this time."

Marluxia dragged himself off after another moment of silent, pathetic staring. Zexion returned to nuzzling Lexaeus. "Now, where are we?"

"He did look cold," Lexaeus murmured, eyes flicking up to where they'd last seen Marluxia.

"He'll live," Zexion said curtly, pulling him down quickly. "We were right in the middle of something, if you recall?"

"Ah," Lexaeus said intelligently, leaning down to kiss him, Marluxia promptly forgotten as Zexion ground his hips up against his. "Yes."

Zexion let a look of smug bliss cross his face as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, all but purring with satisfaction as hot lips dragged themselves across his neck. "Yes," he murmured, stroking Lexaeus' hair. The air was cold, but he hardly felt it, as Lexaeus moved down his body, undoing as little clothing as possible to keep out the chill. He purposefully let his lips brush Zexion's newly-freed erection, just the lightest of touches, wishing to take things as slowly as possible, though that wasn't truly slow in the least.

It hardly mattered anyway; his partner didn't care. Pushing him away, Zexion scrambled up and tugged his belt and pants open, exposing him to the cool desert air, making overly pleased sounds. It was then his turn to descend on Lexaeus with lips and tongue, doing a much more thorough and complete job of it.

Lexaeus was silent as ever, swallowing every groan and gasp that Zexion tried to coax out of him. He had no interest in being interrupted again, not after their previous troubles.

Shivering, but not with the cold, Zexion settled back against the tarp, pulling Lexaeus over him again. It was too cold to straddle him, no matter how he wanted the control this time. Muffling his moans against Lexaeus' neck, he rocked his hips up as Lexaeus pressed spit-slick fingers into him, desperate for the touch and even more desperate to have Lexaeus inside him. The fingers were good, but nowhere near enough.

"Please," he whispered hoarsely, and the Silent Hero felt more than heard the words, his lips brushing the pulse point in his neck.

"So desperate," Lexaeus rumbled, settling against him, pressing just slightly and withdrawing, teasing them both and positively torturing Zexion.

"Do you want me scream it?" Zexion hissed, reaching up to yank on his hair. "I will, if you desire it."

"That would bring others running," Lexaeus growled, though it looked like the idea of Zexion screaming his name was incredibly tempting.

 _Later,_ he consoled himself, and the primeval, animalistic side that few, if any, ever saw. _Much later, when we're safe and separate from these fools._

He deemed that Zexion was stretched enough, especially with how demanding the smaller Nobody was being. He never minded the pain, truly.

Lexaeus finally stopped teasing them both and pushed himself fully home in one, long stroke. Zexion's fingers dug into his shoulders, and he grit his teeth against any sound that might have emerged. _Oh. Yes. Fuck._

Slowly Zexion relaxed, rubbing the red marks he left in Lexaeus' shoulders. "Now," he purred, rocking his hips up slightly.

Lexaeus sighed as the tightness eased, and he slowly began to roll his hips. They had been off-balance and surly ever since their interruption, and it hadn't been fair. Now, to be so complete again- because, truly, where one was, was the other- was sheer bliss. His eyes closed, and he could still see Zexion's face in his mind's eye, had seen it so often before, and just focused on setting the pace.

"Faster," came the gasped order from beneath him. "Yes, _yes_ , Lexaeus…"

The sounds were entirely involuntary, the pleas made demands, and to hear his name made him growl again. _Too long, too long,_ he told himself, losing himself between Zexion's legs, knowing it was safe to do so.

He opened his eyes again to see Zexion wrap a hand around himself and stroke, his pale cheeks flushed with high color, his eyes as bright as the stars that shone down. "Lexaeus," he purred, adding a flourish to the movement of his hand, licking his lips.

The large Nobody shuddered all over and leaned down, all but mashing his lips to Zexion's, his larger hand wrapping around Zexion's small one and stroking along with it quickly and eagerly.

It took no time at all for Zexion to curl forward, biting down on Lexaeus' shoulder to muffle his shrieks as his release took him. Lexaeus could watch and, though the light was so dim, enjoy the sight of his lover shudder through a powerful and too-long-delayed orgasm.

Lexaeus followed him nearly instantly, hands clutching at his hips, pulling him as close to him as he could get, burying himself as deep inside of him as he could. His climax seemed to last forever and no time at all, and in moments he slumped, barely able to hold himself up over Zexion's still-shaking body.

After a moment, Zexion simply reached up and tugged him down against him, heedless of the weight. "Much… better," he slurred, eyes closed, still flushed, no longer cold. "Mmm, yes."

Lexaeus merely chuckled. He, too, felt much warmer. Lighter, too- Zexion was rightfully his again, and the tension that had built up after that damned maid had burst in on them was gone.

Zexion was already half-asleep; after being cold and knotted up inside for so very long, to have a release and to be so warm at the same time was a death-knell for wakefulness. Lexaeus slowly pulled out, already softening, and gathered Zexion in his arms. The Schemer barely stirred, murmuring wordlessly and curling up to his chest.

Lexaeus looked very pleased and pressed another gentle kiss to his hair. _We will never be separated again,_ he told himself. _I will not allow it._


	28. Chapter 026 – 'Neath Arabian Moon (XXX)

Chapter: 026 – 'Neath Arabian Moons (XXX).  
Location: Agrabah  
Characters: Marluxia, Vexen, Axel, Larxene, Zexion, Lexaeus  
Rating/Warnings: R/NC-17. Semi-consensual graphic sex.  
Summary: The desert night is bitter cold, but there are things that are colder and bitterer still. 

**Chapter 026 : Agrabah – 'Neath Arabian Moons (XXX).**

* * *

The stars were very bright, without even the slightest hint of humidity in the air to blur them; they looked close enough to touch, sharp, defined and ruthless in the cold air. The sun had taken the sledgehammer heat with it as it set, the utterly dry air unable to retain even a whisper of warmth.  
Marluxia was very, very cold.

It had already been a trying night - _two_ trying nights, really, albeit worlds apart

The loss of his coat had been nuisance enough in the sandstorm, and being unable to turn up his cowl to protect himself from the brutal sun had left his fair skin burned in places, but now he was back to being cold again, as if the chill instilled in his bones by the icy sea water had just been waiting to burst forth once more.

Axel and Larxene were comfortably snuggled up in the sand a little ways away, both with enough inner elemental blaze to keep decently warm, especially entwined as they were, a licentious and shameless snakepit of limbs and leather.  
He had casually approached them when the cold had become unbearable, hoping to share that alluring warmth. Axel had most rudely turned him away. Larxene, sleeping like a pig, hadn't even woken up.  
Filthy miserly bastards.

He had tried curling up against one of the jagged boulders that protruded from their campsite dune like the bones of some vast ancient monster, but the stone seemed even colder than the sand and he'd had to give up that idea. Not even burrowing into the dry and barren dirt had helped; he was still so cold his bones had begun to ache, and there weren't even the smallest traces of plant-life to sustain energy or cover.

The stars had moved quite far across the sky before he had become desperate enough to approach Zexion and Lexaeus; he didn't _want_ to spend the night close to them, truly not, but the cold was making him dizzy and he was beginning to fear the chill would downright damage him before the sun rose again.  
He'd tried his very best to veil his loathing, even made a seemingly passable shot at imploring meekness, but to no avail. He was turned down yet again, just as rudely.

So much for the group sticking together and helping each other; when it really mattered the others were every bit as petty and selfish as they often so unjustly accused him of being.  
Bastards, the lot of them.

He rubbed his hands, more on instinct than for comfort; he couldn't really feel them anymore.  
It was such stupid bad luck that their blankets, the single one sensible investment he'd managed to persuade Lexaeus to make, had all been left behind on the sinking ship.

A cold wind, weaker than the earlier storm but uncomfortable and biting nonetheless came sweeping in across the endless desert, humming ghostly between the boulders and somehow it managed to make the night just a little bit colder still.  
He clenched his jaw hard to keep his teeth from chattering and finally looked to the dune across the campsite that he had very carefully avoided up until now.  
A lonely black shape lay sprawled there, apparently not at all bothered by the cold.

Of all the Nobodies in the tattered party Vexen would no doubt be the one least inclined to provide him with warmth and shelter, but maybe, _maybe_ the chance to gloat and rub in his sense of superiority might make him relent after suitable amounts of pleading.

He held out a little bit longer out of sheer stubbornness and fraying pride, but in the end he steeled himself and unsteadily stumbled through the sand towards the man whose death he had ordered not even a month ago.

" Vexen?"  
The scientist resolutely squeezed his eyes shut, much too tired to appreciate the thought of waking; it was still dark and cold, it could not possibly be time to move on yet.  
" Vexen. Are you awake?"  
" I am now," he muttered, reluctantly opening his eyes. In the faint starlight it took a while for his eyes to adjust enough to make out the hovering pink-haloed shape nearby; not that he needed to, he'd know that voice anywhere.  
" What do you want?" he hissed; that Marluxia had managed to get so close while he was asleep was unpleasant and quite offensive.  
The simple question seemed to take the other off-guard and the Assassin hesitated notably before answering, as if very carefully weighing his words.

" We... need to talk. About many things. About Oblivion."  
" _Now?!_ " he spat, half sitting up in sheer outrage. " Go to hell, Marluxia. I have nothing to say to you."  
" Wait, Vexen! I'm... Look, I... I realize, perhaps, some of my decisions at the end were not entirely reasonable or justified. I was under a lot of pressure, and-..."  
A bloodcurdling and downright beastly snarl cut him off and Vexen was slightly surprised to realize it had come from him.

" You dare. You _dare_ come crawling when I'm at my weakest to try to wave aside your _unforgivable_ crimes! You betrayed me! Betrayed me in every way possible! You ordered my death! And you didn't even have the spine to do it yourself you cowardly bastard, but sent Axel, _Axel_ to do your dirty job for you!"  
He wasn't even bothering to keep his voice down, shrill furious scream blending with the moaning desert wind to be swallowed by the star-speckled eternity above.

" I _burned_ , Marluxia! Do you have any idea, any _idea_ what that was like?! To burn, the pain, to choke on the smoke from your own fading body and knowing it was _you_ who had sent him to do it..."  
He trailed off, breathing hard, the mere memory making the familiar cold sweat break out on his brow and palms.

Marluxia was staring at him, face painted white and wide-eyed by the pale starlight. The man licked dry lips, seemingly taken aback by the outburst.  
" I'm sorry," he managed, and ingratiating snake that he was almost made it sound sincere. If anything it fuelled Vexen's fury even further.  
" I'm sorry," Marluxia repeated, more collected now, " but you must understand it was nothing personal. By then things had gone too far to leave me any other option-..."  
He was cut off by that snarl again. Wasting precious energy he really couldn't afford to lose Vexen forced himself to his feet.  
" What a relief. I would have hated to think I was savagely murdered for _personal_ reasons!"

" I had to do it!" The Assassin was shivering, his voice oddly strangled. " You would never have sided with me against the Organization! You had become a liability. You gave me no choice!"  
" There is always a choice," he replied, and his voice sounded strange to his own ears. " You could have chosen me."

They stared at each other, even the wind holding its breath. The desert was deathly quiet, stars cold and unblinking above.  
Then the moment was gone; there was no more energy to spend on foolish remnants of bitter emotion, and he turned his back on the former Lord of Oblivion.  
" Go away, Marluxia," he repeated, voice weary and detached once more. " I have nothing more to say to you."  
He sank back down onto the sand, spent, wanting only to sleep and pretend the dreamlike starlit conversation had never taken place.

" Vexen," Marluxia breathed, his voice still too-soft and strained. " Please. I came to ask you... It's too cold. I'm freezing to death. Please. Won't you let me lie beside you, just for tonight?"

He closed his eyes, feeling an entirely insane grin tug at the corners off his mouth even though there was the oddest ache in his empty chest.  
" So that's it," he said, voice dead and matter-of-fact. " For a moment you almost had me fooled."

There was silence behind him; either Marluxia couldn't think of anything to say, or maybe he felt all that needed saying had already been said.  
The Graceful Assassin was a Nobody just like himself, incapable of feeling remorse or regret. He wished he could be annoyed with himself for having allowed himself to forget, but even annoyance was beyond his reach now.

" Vexen..?" the other repeated, and of course it was the cold that made his usually rich and enticing voice so brittle; he should have realized.  
Keeping his eyes firmly closed he managed a half-shrug.  
" I can't stop you," he said, too tired, much too tired, wanting only to sleep dreamless sleep forever. " Do what you like."

 _You always did,_ he added to himself, then firmly banished foolish bitterness along with all other taxing emotions, banished them to oblivion where they belonged.

He truly felt nothing at all when the other's solid form sank down beside him in the sand, nothing at all.

Numb. Heartless.  
Frozen.

A cold thin sliver of a moon had risen high in the sky when Marluxia slowly awoke, struggling his way out of sleep's nothingness with effort, trying to banish clinging darkness from sluggish thoughts.  
At first he couldn't pinpoint what was wrong; he couldn't feel anything out of place. Then, with certain dread he realized he couldn't feel _anything_ ; it was so cold his body had gone numb, even thought and awareness slowly freezing over.  
He hissed and blinked frost from his eyelashes, tried to roll away; the nightmarish chill was emanating from the shape beside him, colder even than the desert night.

" Damn you!" he managed, though breathing the dry, icy air made him cough.  
Vexen shifted slightly, awake now, turning to stare at him with those poison-green eyes, observing his struggles with vague interest.  
" Is something the matter, Marluxia?" he asked, and despite his voice being perfectly impassive there was a smouldering hate in his eyes that utterly belied his indifference.

He struggled to sit up, forcing his cramping jaws to shape words.  
" You're... freezing! Damn you!"  
Vexen scoffed, pitiless and cold.  
" Surely you didn't expect me to waste precious energy to keep _you_ warm?"

Unconsciousness was tearing hungrily at him to the point where cold was beginning to feel warm and stiff muscles were slowly relaxing in surrender. He fought it, knew if he fell asleep now he would not wake again.  
There was a ruthlessness to Vexen's eyes he had never seen there before, a dark hunger, and he realized the man _wanted_ him to suffer, die, wanted to watch it happen.

 _A life for a life._

A debt carelessly left unpaid.

" Vexen," he tried, the other's name ragged and unrecognizable on his numb lips. " Please."  
Though please what he couldn't say; _please, don't do this!_ perhaps, or _please, forgive me_. Possibly _please, lean a little closer so I can snap your miserable neck before I die_.  
Quite likely.

For all his stubborn insistence on their supposed lack of true emotion there was downright fury in the scientist's eyes, and Marluxia tried to remember just when he had stopped thinking of Vexen as a dangerous adversary and dismissed him as a pet broken to his hand.  
Right now he looked anything but broken, a hard unyielding statue of inky blacks and icy whites and those baleful green, green eyes...

" I said I wouldn't stop you," Vexen said, even his voice cold. " But don't think for even a moment I would _welcome_ you to share my bed. Promiscuous pig."

 _But you did,_ he wanted to growl, _There was a time when you were ever so willing, not even bothering to feign reluctance anymore._

It was much too easy, he dizzily mused, to underestimate ice; it would creep up on you, slow and subtle, a dazzle of frost at first, and you would never realize the full danger until it was too late, much too late to escape.  
Damn the man.

" Vexen, please," he managed to stutter again, blue-tinted lips no longer under his control.

" You ordered my life taken. Why should I bother saving yours?" Vexen hissed, relentless.  
" If you can't stand the cold, go to Axel. You'll be warm for the remainder of your life, I guarantee it."  
" I said... I was... sorry," he ground out. It was difficult to fight the urge to lie down, close his eyes, let the cold claim him. " I can't… make it undone. Damn you."

" A pity," Vexen whispered, the gaunt face all sharp planes and shadows in the half-light.

He wasn't even aware he had collapsed until he felt coarse sand against his face, weakly digging his fingers into it.  
There was barely any cold at all anymore, just infinite weariness.

It was laughable, really, having survived - against all odds – treason, keybearers, kings and sinking ships only to come to such an anticlimactic end on a peaceful night like this. Laughable.  
Sand trickled between his numb fingers.

" Not like this," he breathed. " Vexen. _Please_. I'll do anything you say."

" Anything?"

The other's voice was strangely distant, but for a moment he could almost imagine the cold eased slightly, some feeling returning briefly to his numb limbs.  
He leapt on the desperate hope, nodded clumsily.

Suddenly there were hands on his thin shirt, dragging him up, jerking him close.

" Would you beg," Vexen sneered, " as I begged for my life before the final blow? Would you sell every last shred of dignity and self to survive, as you had me do? Crawl, break and finally _die_ to satisfy another's whim?"

The man's fury was a furnace, the cold blazed away by the sheer intensity and he could almost move again.

" If that's what you... want from me," he murmured. " I already… begged you."  
Vexen scoffed.  
"A 'please' isn't begging, merely common courtesy. Surely you can do better than that."

He ground his teeth, but at least now a possible way out, no matter how desperate, had presented itself.

" You want … apologies? Fine. I'm sorry. And I admit all my… plans failed. Everything did. I gambled it all, and lost everything. I sacrificed… everything. Even you. And it was all for nothing."

The man was so cold, unreachable.

" You want... me to beg? Bastard. Please. Help me. I _beg_ you."  
He spat the word, shivering.

Vexen sat silent, as stone-faced as ever Lexaeus. There was no mercy whatsoever in those poisonous eyes.

" That's all?" he finally said, breaking the heavy silence.

Marluxia inhaled with a sharp hiss, wanted to scream and crush that infuriating thin frame under his fists, anything to get a reaction.

" What... more do you... want from me?!"

One of the hands entangled in his cheap labourer's shirt slowly released its grip, ghosted across his face to lift his chin, a gesture oddly delicate.

" I'm sure you can think of something," said Vexen softly, and there was the slightest gleam in his eyes that had nothing to do with reflected starlight.  
" Didn't you use to boast, after all, your talents in melting the harshest ice, leaving the coldest plaything you'd ever known warm and flustered with your touch?"

He stared in disbelief, transfixed by the intensity of those bitter eyes and what he saw awakened in their depths.

" That is what you want, isn't it? Warmth." Vexen stated, expressionless again, releasing his chin with a slight jerk. " Then show a little effort. I have no more energy to waste on you."

He kept staring, quite certain he had misheard or misunderstood the man.

" You… You _want_ me to..?"

The other gave him a contemptuous look.

" No, Marluxia. _You_ want you 'to'."

The unnatural cold was seeping back into his aching bones and he gave a jerky nod.

" Yes," he surrendered, only vaguely surprised at how easily the word would escape his lips or how soft it sounded.

 _Damned insufferable old fool. It's been… much, much too long._

There was frost glittering in that rose-colored hair, accentuating Marluxia's too-pale features and blue-tinted lips quite prettily in the starlight.

Hypothermia looked good on him, Vexen decided.

It was deeply satisfying seeing the usually so powerful man vanquished by the cold to the brink of death, once graceful movements frozen slow and stiff. Very satisfying indeed.  
A flower rarely fared too well once touched by the first frost; an important lesson for the despicable little upstart, one he should have learned long ago.

As Marluxia leaned closer, though, dark blue eyes almost black in the faint light, he snarled and raised his hand, pushing him away. Those lips were poison; he had no desire to suffer the taste of their deceitful sweetness now, not now, when it was a struggle to keep up strength enough for even an illusion of control and rare dominance.

" I don't want you anywhere near my face. Who knows where you've been?" he muttered in response to Marluxia's furious and slightly confused look.

In fact he did know all too well where the Neophyte had been more than once since Oblivion; with his equally intolerable little whore, who had now seemed to forsake him for Axel's warmth. Sickening girl, any remaining trace of her touch would truly be reason enough for revulsion.

Clenching his jaw the Assassin nodded stiffly, changing his approach to struggle with the zipper of Vexen's robes, his white fingers clumsy and stiff. He truly was a splendid sight down on his knees in the moonlit sand; bowing, defeated, trembling with the cold.

Sweet, sweet, sweet retribution; the tables turned at last, as things should always have been.

Considering what an absolutely ghastly day it had been, the night was actually beginning to show certain promise.

The blistering cold had faded from Vexen's body; now he was only slightly cool to the touch, bearable, with a promise of future warmth that just needed coaxing to the surface.

Bastard didn't seem too interested in helping with the infuriatingly challenging task of unzipping robes and unbuttoning pants; if anything the man looked contemptuously amused by his fumbling efforts. Marluxia ground his teeth to keep from swearing and stubbornly struggled on.

There was nothing attractive about Vexen's body, he thought as he finally folded the voluminous black robes aside, baring pale skin.  
The man was much too gangly, too thin, too bony, too old, with tight, thin lips, colourless hair and ridiculous womanly hips.

An aging effeminate scarecrow of a man who would be laughable if it weren't for... _Those burning green eyes, the bitterness of his kisses, his foolish pride and tantalizing unpredictability, and, yes, admittedly, those damned bony, womanly hips..._  
And there was no rational reason at all why he wished to curse rather than bless the numbing effects of the cold and weariness as he tugged the man's pants down, compelled to touch the cool, smooth skin again.

As he bent down to brush his lips against the sharp angle of one of those defined hipbones an unexpected but most encouraging breathy sigh escaped the man; for all his harsh words Vexen didn't seem too disinclined to play along.

He could feel those blazing eyes on him; analyzing, assessing, calculating, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the deadly cold coursed down his spine.

He loathed his helplessness and forced humility, hated bowing to another's will, playing on terms not his own, cursed the unbearable cold and the circumstances that had led to his vulnerable position.  
The intimacy, however, he would willingly admit to himself he did not mind much at all.  
Quite the contrary.

He nuzzled his way across the taut skin of a flat, only slightly muscled stomach, allowed himself to rest his head there for a moment, feeling the first sensation of promising warmth against his cold cheek.  
One could only hope Vexen's liaison with ice would make his own frozen touch tolerable, he mused, or whatever he attempted would cause discomfort rather than pleasure; for once he was the colder one, begging winter itself for warmth.  
How utterly ironic.

Carefully tracing the contour of a thigh with stiff fingers didn't seem to displease the man, though, and he let them wander higher until they encountered fine, sand-coloured hair, a ghostly touch against his unfeeling skin.

He was in no shape for anything remotely extravagant, half-unconscious as he was, and he dared waste no more time on nonsensical caresses. Vexen would most likely be righteously disgruntled if he were to fall asleep halfway through, he wryly thought to himself. _He_ certainly would have been.

Very firmly assuring his frozen jaws that instinctively clenching shut would be an extremely bad idea at the moment he opened his mouth.

Certain parts of Vexen were not at all cold anymore, he noted with certain relief, taking the other's hardening length deep into his mouth. He sucked carefully; with lips and tongue stunned by the cold it was difficult to estimate how forceful he dare be - he didn't want to risk hurting the man, not tonight.

Vexen made an entirely involuntary sound, however, and did not seem displeased.

Swirling his tongue around the sensitive tip of the hot, hard shaft he tried to coax his stiff cramped body into some sort of rhythm, trembling fingers continuing their subtle exploration of the other's skin.

Battling exhaustion and cold he concentrated on the task at hand, moving, suckling and taking the other as deep as he could manage.

Even the small, measured movements were tiring, though, and he wanted to swear, had not his mouth been otherwise occupied; there was so _much_ he would have wanted to do to that pale, angular body with Vexen caught in such a rare acquiescent mood.  
 _Damn_ the impossible man.

He glanced up, looking for any signs of approaching release in those blazing eyes, but Vexen's head was thrown back, his eyes closed, his lower lip caught between his teeth; a mask of unashamed pleasure.  
He faltered at the sight, forced down a groan, nearly choked.

It took a few tries to find his rhythm again, the heat now radiating from the other's tensing form making him dizzy.

He could only hope fervently that all the others were as disgustingly soundly asleep as they seemed; should anyone witness his utter defeat he would certainly never, ever live it down.

By the time the heat from Vexen's now-warm body had thawed his mouth and fingers enough to grant them back a vestige of their former skill, fatigue was relentlessly stealing it back.  
At the end it was sloppy and slobbery, utterly lacking refinement, but it seemed to be enough; a violent shudder coursed through Vexen's body, then another, and the man clenched his fingers spasmodically into the sand.

He closed his eyes as the warmth filled his mouth, swallowed obediently, tried to ignore the unreasonable sudden tightness of his own pants.

A few dutiful finishing licks was all he could manage before his vision darkened, exhaustion finally taking its toll, refusing any further respite.  
He collapsed onto the sand again, spent his last strength on nestling close to the hard, unyielding body beside him, drowning in its hard-won, glorious warmth.

There was no more starlight, no more blazing eyes.  
Only warm, blissful darkness.

 _What a curious night_ , Vexen concluded, staring emptily up at the glistening stars, trying to get his breathing back under control.

He didn't know how long he lay there before he finally moved, fastidiously tugging his clothes into place and sweeping the superfluous leather of his large robes around the both of them, at last allowing himself to even look at the man next to him.

Marluxia was fast asleep, the near comatose sleep of the utterly exhausted.  
Surely he had never ever looked so vulnerable before.

It would take nothing at all; a quick blow, a sharp icicle, another drop in temperature to end the Assassin once and for all, and yet he slept so peacefully, as though nothing in the world could harm him where he rested curled up tight next to a man who truthfully hated him.  
Truly.

Vexen studied his sworn enemy in silence.

There was a tension to the aristocratic face you never saw there when the other was awake, he looked worn and haunted. As much a refugee as any one of them, perhaps more so; the greatest traitor, with the most to lose should they ever be caught.

And still, despite that strain, Marluxia would sleep so peacefully by his side, like a child, cruel blue eyes closed, his rosy lips slightly parted.

He couldn't explain why he did it, least of all to himself; suddenly he just found himself grazing those lips with his own, a kiss most chaste, meaning nothing, absolutely nothing at all.

He should sleep, he knew; the night's encounter had wasted more precious energy than he had regained from his rest and tomorrow would be another long day.  
Closing his eyes he tried to get comfortable, couldn't even be bothered to sweep those curls of infuriating pink hair aside when they tickled his face.

And under the diamond stars, for the first time, the mournful desert wind carried with it a scent of roses.


	29. Chapter 027 – New Horizons to Pursue

Chapter: 027 – New Horizons to Pursue.  
Location: Agrabah  
Characters: Marluxia, Vexen, Larxene, Axel, Zexion, Lexaeus.  
Rating/Warnings: G.  
Summary: A new morning in a new world... what will lurk behind the next sand dune? 

**Chapter 027 : Agrabah – New Horizons to Pursue.**

* * *

The first thing Marluxia noticed was the warmth caressing his skin. The second was the itchy grains of sand trickling into the neck of his shirt. With a curse, he sat up and tried in vain to shake it all out of his clothing.

The sun had not yet risen, dawn was only a promise on the horizon as the sky slowly lightened. But already the heat was returning, creeping across the sand with the rosy tendrils of light.

The sand beside him was empty. The wind had already erased any trace of a second body that may have rested beside him. He rubbed his arms, remembering the killer cold of the night before… but while his skin was cold, no trace of lethal frost remained. The air was nothing more than a pleasant breeze, gently warming him.

 _That bastard_. He dragged a hand over his lips, glowering at the sand. Vexen truly knew no mercy. He ought to have remembered that. Ought to have remembered how Vexen lovingly nursed a grudge until it died of old age. That had always been a source of amusement, before. _I have gotten careless._

But, despite his threats, Vexen had proven to be… reasonable. For a given amount of "reason". And for whatever it was worth, the encounter with the bony old man hadn't been all unpleasant. If Number Four could stop being his sneering, disdainful, haughty self for a moment, Marluxia would not mind the… company. At least not on cold nights. _Still… bastard. I'll get him for that one._ The small voice that whispered that he might have deserved it was brutally ignored.

A movement off to the side caught his eye, and he turned to see Vexen standing on the crest of the dune, back towards the camp and eyes staring out towards the horizon. Limbs protested as Marluxia forced himself to his feet and climbed up to stand beside him. The other man took no notice of him.

"…Vexen?"

Still no answer. The man simply stared out over the endless sand, eyes hard and cold. Marluxia stood silent beside him until it was clear Vexen was not going to acknowledge his presence. A small spark of irritation flashed in his chest. "Are you just going to stand here and ogle the view, Number Four?"

Green eyes turned to give him a disdainful glare. "I hardly see how any of my doings are your business, Eleven."

Marluxia had expected… what? Sneering superiority, perhaps. Or maybe a shift back to how things had been, before the Keybearer arrived. A small thawing of the ice. _Something_. Not just unspoken denial.

Vexen gave him a last contemptuous look and stalked back down the dune, leaving Marluxia alone with the rising sun. He stared at the retreating back, black leather coat flaring over the sand. _Impossible, impossible man._  
 _Had_ last night even happened? Here in the light of the new day, the memories of Vexen's pale body writhing on the sand seemed as insubstantial as the dust itself, scattered to the wind.

Shaking his head, he followed the other down to the scorched sand of last night's camp fire. The rest of the group had slowly begun to gather around. Larxene was combing sand out of her hair with her fingers while Axel had once again set flames dancing over the bare sand. _Bastards, the whole lot of them._.

Once Lexaeus and Zexion had emerged from their little cosy shelter, the mood in the air subtly changed. A sense of urgency crept in, making Marluxia's skin crawl. But more over shadowing still was the hunger - and the thirst. His tongue felt like a piece of old leather in his mouth.

Larxene dug around in her bag, producing a small metal flask which she hopefully uncorked and brought to her lips. Sighing, she then turned it upside-down over the sand. Not even a single drop emerged. "And that was good whiskey, too."

"We should determine that we managed to get with us," Zexion stated. "Could everyone bring out their things?"

It was a motley, uneven collection. Vexen and Axel only had what they had had on their persons; a few spare coins, a comb, a kerchief. A few potions, probably more than either wanted to admit. Marluxia did not even have that, all contents of his pockets having disappeared along with his cloak and pack in the bowels of the ship.

Larxene was better off, but the assortment of things she had kept in her handbag was mismatched at best.

"Those are things from _my_ bag!" Vexen hissed at the sight of the small case of needles and scalpels.

"Yes, and aren't you happy what I saved them, dear?" She purred, smiling an altogether false smile. "Don't worry; I took all the potions as well."

"And that's not all you took, love," Marluxia commented, holding up a rather fancy set of cutlery. "Aren't these from the Dining Hall?"

The newspaper from the train station and a set of clean underwear rounded off her baggage, along with a handful of munnies. Lexaeus, on the other hand, was the only one who had carried his entire bag off the ship. Well, Zexion had also brought his rather small, ineffective bag, but everyone knew who actually did the carrying between those two.

Luckily, Lexaeus had been charged with carrying a hefty part of the heavier supplies, and _he_ had opted for a decently sized backpack. The tent pegs would do no good out here with neither tent nor firm ground to stick them in, and the pot was quite useless without any water… as was the soap and the fishing supplies. There was rope, too, and two sets of cutlery, plates and mugs; Zexion could evidently not be bothered to carry even the smallest thing for himself.

Axel picked up the large water bottles and shook them. "Aw, man. As dry as Vexen's sense of humour."

The scientist just gave him an icy glare. "It was _not_ funny, Axel."

"Yeah, yeah, that's your side of the story…"

The next thing out of the bag was the large tarp. Marluxia hissed. "What?! You had that all along?! Then why didn't you…?"

"What?" Lexaeus gave him a blank glance. "No one asked, and it's not like it's going to rain out here anyway."

"That was not that I meant! Have you no idea of how cold I was last night?!"

The large man didn't appear to be affronted by the livid tone. "You appear to have come though it without any great harm."

Marluxia opened his mouth, then closed it again, determinedly not looking in Vexen's direction. "Hmpf."

"There has to be something _useful_ in there," Larxene said, balancing a tent peg on her finger. "I'm starving."

Without a word, Lexaeus pulled out several small packages, which Zexion deftly plucked out of his hands. The smaller man inspected them happily, tucking several into his own bag.

"Ah… I doubt the tea and spices will make a good breakfast, but we _do_ have some nuts and dried fruit. Just enough for us all, I should think."

The prospect of food cheered them all up, even if the dry, tough food grated in more than one parched throat. Marluxia eyed the empty bottles thoughtfully. "Vexen… can't you make us some ice? We could use water."

The glare directed at him was furious. "Absolutely not! I am in _no_ shape to cater to your whims right now, Eleven!"

Lexaeus coughed, and Vexen made a small grimace. "I mean it. Yesterday was… trying. And this place has not a whiff of moisture in the air. There is nothing I can do, unless you're willing to carry me for the rest of the day?"

Marluxia hmpfed again, moving slightly closer to Larxene. "My apologies then, Vexen."

They had left the dune behind them and struck out over the sand, heading for the hazy dark mass on the horizon. They were close enough now to see tones of green and white, the first outlines of buildings and walls.

"..are we there yet?"

"Shut up, Axel."

Yesterday had been windy, the sandstorm hiding them from the worst of the sun. Today was as clear and calm as a picture, not a breeze disturbing the sand. The heat was soon like a sledgehammer on their heads. It felt almost like physical blows, and they soon found it was better to keep the hoods of the coats up, no matter how stuffy the leather was. Larxene had removed her skirt from around her waist and instead draped it over her head, so that she looked very much like a walking tent gliding over the sand.

Marluxia didn't even have the luxury of a hood. Even the hazy sun of yesterday had taken its toll on his fair skin, and soon he was more or less stumbling after the others through the sand. For a split second, he considered his newly bought underwear; it should be large enough to provide a decent covering. He might as well kill himself outright, though, and save himself the disgrace.

Larxene peered out on him from her draped impromptu veil. "Looking a bit boiled, dear?"

He gave her his best smile. "Just enjoying the fresh outdoors. You know, you should do the same. That skirt looks awfully stifling. I can carry it for you."

She laughed her usual cruel laugh, but actually swept the garment off her shoulders and instead dragged up the hood of her robe. "How ever so nice of you, Marluxia."

He wrapped the dark cloth around his head with relief, feeling the heat become muted almost at once. How he longed for water and greenery. Larxene eyed him, bright eyed, and he fell into step beside her as they trekked over the dunes. At least here was more pleasant company than certain other blonds of the more insufferable, illogical variety.

As they got nearer to the city, they began seeing signs of life. Camels and horses had left tracks over the sand, shards of pottery lingered on an abandoned camp site. The mirages before them slowly resolved themselves into a city of gleaming white and muddy brown, dominated by the immense palace overlooking the desert and town alike. Zexion raised an eyebrow as the first horde of Heartless ran past them, far away over the sand.

"Heartless. So they do exist here, and in rather large groups."

"Those were not Shadows, where they? Some more advanced version…"

"Luna Bandits," Vexen absentmindedly stated, throwing a glance after them. "One of Xigbar's variants, don't you remember? See how they have adapted to their surroundings…"

"Oh, yes. And he was ever so proud of them, too."

"Why was that now again?" Marluxia stared after the disappearing group, even as another had appeared at the horizon.

Vexen only snorted, but Zexion took it upon himself to answer.

"He tried out some of his new ideas on them. They change according to their surroundings, like Vexen said. Notice how they have adapted the colours of the sand." The Nobody's voice took on a droning, lecturing tone. "It was the first version of that mutated genetic string –"

"-ICTIT5."

"ICTIT5, thank you, Vexen. It's rather unstable, but it allows the Heartless bearer to pick up traits from whatever dominating force it encounters in its new environment."

Lexaeus sighed. "I remember when he managed to refine it enough to give them flame patterns…"

A collective shudder went though the Elders, but Axel perked up. "Flames?"

"Only a few test subjects. We left them somewhere. Who wants patterned Heartless? Well, apart from Xigbar…"

"Look, look, this is all very fascinating, but it is of any use to us?" Larxene said.

Zexion shrugged. "I should not think so. We have nothing they want, and they certainly can't assist us."

"Shouldn't we try and gain control of them?"

"Well, I suppose they could be of use if we wanted to create chaos… but do we?"

The others considered this briefly, then shook their heads. "Nah. As long as we have Vexen, we'll manage that fine on our own."

"Axel!"

"Let's just leave them be," Lexaeus said. "At least they are not sentient enough to tell anyone we've been here."

The sun had reached zenith as they finally, finally, stumbled into the welcome shade of the great walls. The guards at the city gates gave them suspicious glances, but did not stop them. They joined the line of travellers entering the city without any trouble, slipping inside with almost unseemly haste.

Inside, after a day spent trudging though the great silent desert, the sounds and smells of the city met them like a wall. Everywhere was loud noises, shouting voices, the screams and barks of dogs and horses and camels and chickens, the whiffs of spices and dung and unwashed bodies, sometimes lifted for a moment by a breeze smelling of fresh seawater. And the houses around them seemed to tower over them, with balconies and flags and lines of clothing shadowing the deep streets from the light of the day.

"Waughn." Marluxia pressed a fold of the skirt over his mouth. "What a place…"

"We won't stay here long, will we?" Larxene looked around her with a frown, but it was quickly replaced with a smile. "Hot damn! A well."

The well she had spotted was an open fountain, its stone brim wide enough to seat dozens and its water merrily sprouting into the air even as dark eyed women filled earthenware jugs which they gracefully balanced on a hip as they headed home. The Nobodies resolutely crowded around it, greedily drinking their fill and dunking their throbbing, overheated heads under the surface.

The refreshments lifted their moods like a charm, and so it was with a few smiles and a general pleasant mood that they sank down on the brim to get some well-earned rest.

"I suppose we'll have to stay at least for a few days. A boat suddenly doesn't seem like such a good idea," Zexion said.

"Do we have money for that?" Vexen showed the few coins he had managed to save. "You _did_ get the money with you, didn't you?"

Lexaeus looked decisively uncomfortable. "Not… all of it."

They all stared at him for a moment. Then Marluxia dropped his head in his hand and groaned. "The safe. You left it at that security office onboard…"

A chorus of groans arose. "At least tell us that we have _some_ money," Vexen begged.

The large man nodded. "Yes. I took aside enough to last until we reached America, with some extra. We should be able to live and eat a few days at least, maybe a week."

The others eyed the purse he held forwards with some doubt. "A week is not such a terribly long time…"

"Excuse me, worthy gentlemen?"

They turned to find a finely dressed man standing behind them, bearing a slightly sheepish look and a beautiful gilded box. A couple of equally splendidly clad companions stood near, holding camels with saddles decorated with gold ribbons and sparkling stones.

"..Yes?" Zexion's tone was guarded.

"I wonder, oh praiseworthy denizens of this shining city, if you could direct this humble traveller to the road to Betlehem? I am afraid my friends and I are…ahem…lost."

The Nobodies looked at each other. "I am afraid we are not from around here, sir. Maybe if you asked someone else?"

"Ah." The man gave them a graceful bow. "Nevertheless, thank you for your gracious assistance. May the powers of Good smile upon your journey, fellow voyagers." He turned and , with another bow, made his way back to the camels.

"No, I still don't know there we are."

"I _told_ you, Baltazar, that we should have taken a right hand turn at that oasis! Next time, I'll drive!"

The first man sniffed. "Melkior, the things you know about directing a camel can be written on the forehead of a beheaded chicken."

The two men argued as they all mounted their beasts, while the third man attempted to make peace. "Friends, we have plenty of time to get there."

"We do? We _do_? What if we are late?!"

"Then he'll just have to be born on the 25th instead, right?"

"Oh, right, like people wouldn't notice…"

"Come on, it's not like he'd go anywhere."

Still quarrelling, the trio disappeared around a corner, leaving slightly stunned Nobodies behind.

"…where there we?"

"Munnies."

"Oh, yes. You know, we could have just hit those three flaming queens over the head…"

"Well, too late now. Would have made quite a scene, we don't need that kind of attention."

"I say we think of that problem after a good meal," Axel grumbled. For once, the others were in perfect agreement.

The meal actually was very good, if a bit on the spicy side. They lingered over the table, content to remain under the shade of the awning and sipping cool, sweet tea. All around them, hawkers and shop owners boasted their wares to anyone who would listen, and the sounds of lively commerce seemed to fill every street.

"So. Money." It was a statement, not a question, and the others nodded.

"You know, maybe we should try and _earn_ it?" Axel attempted to look sincere for a moment, then broke up in a grin. "Just kidding."

"Not a bad idea, perhaps," Lexaeus said.

"With a few adjustments," Zexion added. "We shall not stay here for long. Maybe we should risk some... indiscretions."

Vexen shook his head. "The kind of indiscretions that we have left all over every world we have visited so far, you mean? If anyone was to come looking for us…"

A collective shudder ran though the group. Larxene's eyes flashed. "They aren't. They won't."

"Yes," Lexaeus rumbled, "They aren't."

 _We hope,_ were the unspoken words that hang like a cloud over the table. _Please, let it be so._

Marluxia briskly shook his head. "I think we'd better be careful. Though this rabble…" The glance he directed at the people bustling by in the street was contemptuous- "..is hardly a threat to us."

"Discreet is best," Lexaeus agreed. "But I have full faith in Zexion's abilities." Larxene tittered at that.

"Tomorrow, then." Vexen said. "We will commence… indiscretions. Discreet such. "

A helpful man on the street directed them to the street of Schahid, the Poet Frail of Nerves, where there lived a woman who might have a room to let. "But beware of her tongue; our Aunt Beru can skin a cat with it!"

The lady in question turned indeed out to be as tough as nails, but Marluxia swept up to her side, purring a compliment and almost as an afterthought depositing a fresh red rose in her hand. "My dear lady, beautiful rose of the garden; perhaps we could just look at the room in question…?"

She coloured slightly. "Oh, don't you sweet talk me, you rogue. I know your type!" But she let them into the house, a single large room with mattresses on the floor and a curtain discreetly hiding a large pot in one corner. Small windows near the roof were the only help the small fire in the middle of the room got.

Lexaeus sighed. _How far we have fallen_.

The cost of a few nights dug a large hole in their funds, but as soon as the woman left, most of the Nobodies collapsed on the mattresses with groans of delight. "Light, finally a _bed_." Larxene stretched out on her back, kicking off her boots and pouring sand out of her socks.

Marluxia sat down next, to her, doing the same. "Yes… this night will be _far_ more pleasant that yesterday's."

Across the room, Vexen was unzipping his robes and didn't even bat an eyelash to show that he had overheard. Marluxia hissed inwardly. Larxene grinned wickedly up at him. "You really wrapped that old hag around your little finger, dear. Still have the touch, I see."

He gave her the same gallant smile he had given the landlady. "Did you ever doubt?"

"Hmm. Care to give me a personal demonstration?" she slowly unzipped her new coat, winking cutely.

"Maybe not right now, love. The night is young."

"I'll hold you to that, Flowerboy." She sat up and playfully dragged one very sharp nail across his cheek, giggling.

Vexen, the bastard, had already turned his back to the room.


	30. Chapter 028 – Fantastic Point of View

Chapter: 028 – Fantastic Point of View.  
Location: Agrabah  
Characters: Marluxia, Vexen, Lexaeus, Zexion, Larxene, Axel  
Rating/Warnings: PG/Mild swearing  
Summary: Time to restock the supplies... but how to get the munny? And of course, nothing ever goes as planned... 

**Chapter 028 : Agrabah – Fantastic Point of View.**

* * *

"Before we do anything else, we must supplement our income."

"What income?" Axel cranked around, staring at the former Number Six. "What the hell are you talking about? We have no income. Hell, we hardly have any munny!"

Zexion pressed his lips into a thin line. "It doesn't really _matter_ ," he turned his back on Axel, though the back of his neck prickled to do so. He felt Lexaeus step between himself and the arsonist, and couldn't help but relax. They were back on their even footing, Lexaeus reading Zexion as easily as the Schemer read his book, and acting accordingly. "The point _is_ , we need more munny."

"I won't argue with that," Marluxia agreed. "I have already seen something that I absolutely cannot live without." His eye had settled on a stand across the street, one with fine, rich fabrics draped around the stall. "If I am going to be forced to stomp across another vast desert wasteland at any time, I want to be prepared."

"We will consider it," Lexaeus rumbled, following Marluxia's gaze.

"Oh, let him _have_ it, Lexy," Larxene, put her hands on his arm. "It'll keep him from whining."

"I had no intention of _whining_ ," Marluxia snapped, as Lexaeus grabbed both of her wrists in one hand and peeled her off of his arm in a none-too-gentle movement. "I deserve to buy a fine replacement for my coat!"

"Surely you can find something somewhat more affordable…" Zexion said, but Marluxia had already stalked over to the stall of the robe-seller. "Damn," the Schemer muttered under his breath. "He's always storming off without waiting for a consensus!"

"Such is his style," Vexen said, and his voice was colder than usual. Zexion glanced at him, but could read nothing of the Academic's expression.

 _Hn._ He wondered just what had happened between the two men out in the desert. He always had been rather nosy, and curious by nature. _Plus, this could affect all of our lives._

With a shake of his head, he dismissed Vexen and his cold mask, and approached the stall behind Marluxia. The others followed, Lexaeus in their lead.

"Eight hundred munny!" Marluxia was in full form, arms crossed, back ramrod straight, eyes narrowed to the merest of bright blue slits. He was apparently enjoying himself immensely, if Zexion was any judge. "Eight hundred! Perhaps if it were made of starlight and diamonds!"

"This is the finest silk in Agrabah," the trader held out a swatch of fabric. "Feel it! Run it through your fingers and tell me that it is not worth a _thousand_ munny, at the very least!"

"I would not pay eight hundred munny for that robe," Marluxia scoffed. "I would pay six! At the most!"

"Marluxia," Lexaeus rumbled in warning, but it went unnoticed.

"I would not part with it for less than seven-hundred fifty," the trader, who was short and rather fat, jabbed a finger at the Graceful Assassin. "No less, no less!"

"Bah," Marluxia tossed his hair. "It is worth no more than six-hundred and fifty. No more."

"You seek to rob me!" the man wailed, pulling on his moustache. "Thieves, thieves and ruffians!"

Lexaeus tensed, but no one came running, and Marluxia outright laughed. "You, sir, _you_ are the thief and robber, not I! I do not fleece my customers for every munny they own!"

"How dare you!" the trader was so utterly indignant, Zexion was tempted to feel sorry for him. "Seven hundred munny and no lower!"

"Accepted," Marluxia smirked, and turned to Lexaeus, holding out a hand for the munny pouch.

"You have _got_ to be kidding," Larxene snapped, as Lexaeus, after a moment of staring at Marluxia, reached into the pouch to count out seven hundred munny. "Lexaeus, you're kidding, right? You can't just give him a ton of munny!"

"You got your trinket," Lexaeus rumbled, pointing to her coat. "And he is in need of a robe or coat."

Marluxia looked positively smug as Lexaeus handed him the munny. "See, my sweet? It pays to be intelligent."

"Intelligence has nothing to do with it," Larxene snapped, crossing her arms. "You're just a mooch!"

"Shut up, Larxene," Zexion said tiredly, and put a hand to his forehead as she started to berate him.

She shut up quickly as Lexaeus' heavy hand fell on her shoulder, squeezing just enough to hurt. "Unlike you, Larxene," the Silent Hero rumbled, "he will be repaying every munny."

Marluxia, to everyone's surprise, simply nodded as he handed the trader the munny. "Acceptable," he said, eyes lighting up as the trader, almost reluctantly, handed over the very fine, sweeping silk robe. Pulling on the sumptuous black fabric, he posed, and Zexion had to admit he looked every inch the desert prince.

"Good," Lexaeus turned away, gaze sweeping the street. "Come, we'll split up… We must use our talents to make enough munny to make up for what Marluxia has spent, and then some more."

Zexion nodded, falling into step behind his lover. "Right," he agreed. "I have an idea…"

"I think I do, too," Marluxia mused, tapping his chin. "We'll take opposite sides of the street, then… Vexen, I'm going to require your help for this…" Flicking a few remaining munny at a potter, he picked up two terra-cotta jars. "Yes, this will work well."

"And who's to say I'll help you?" Vexen fell into step anyway, glaring at Larxene and Axel as they followed him. "I certainly owe you nothing at all. If anything you still owe _me_." He sounded exceptionally irritated- being pulled from his lordly position of power over Marluxia a mere few nights before, back to his level of assumedly-broken servant was irritating beyond belief.

"This _is_ in the interest of the group," Marluxia brushed off his annoyance, as if it weren't worth his time.

"I could perform my _own_ tricks and tasks," Vexen scoffed. "I hardly need to hide behind _you_."

"We don't want to draw _too much_ attention to ourselves. But you're welcome to ask Lexaeus if it's necessary," Marluxia glanced at him, smirking faintly as his icy, bristling glare immediately vanished with a slightly-worried glance at Lexaeus. "But I think he'll agree with _me_. You _are_ fully recovered in your powers, are you not?"

"Well enough," Vexen agreed warily, watching him with a jaded eye.

"Good," Marluxia smiled and put the pots down. "Fill those with ice, if you would. And then the "magic" will begin…"

In the end, they made almost a game of it. Zexion started first, gathering a crowd with Axel's help, who had bored of waiting for the ice to melt within the terra cotta jars. The fire-wielder had conjured up his chakrams, and, despite wary looks from everyone else, was simply juggling and tossing them in the air. Passers-by gave Lexaeus the coins, who had taken a position between Zexion and the Flurry of Dancing Flames.

Once Zexion began his shtick, passers-by quickly became onlookers. Between Axel's acrobatics and Zexion's sleight of hand and honest-to-God illusions, Lexaeus was making a pretty penny. Zexion showed his magic by turning bronze to gold, and, in a stroke of genius, incorporating Axel into the act and "turning him into a woman".

The redhead wasn't too thrilled, but judging by the way the munny simply poured in once the now-scantily-clad female Axel juggled her flaming chakrams, he decided it wasn't a good idea to complain.

Once Marluxia's plan began to work, he pulled the onlookers to his side of the street, clearing up room for even more people to gather and watch Axel. It was a simple enough ploy- he simply added the scent of roses to the now-liquid water within the terra-cotta pots.

Zexion upped the ante by claiming that he would turn bronze into gold for the munny equivalent of the gold coins. The people, completely taken by his previous tricks, agreed without question, handing over bronze coins and munny.

It turned out the people of the city simply _loved_ the scent of roses, and in less than an hour Marluxia had completely sold out of his perfume. He coaxed Vexen (by means of setting Larxene on him) to create more ice in the pots.

At one point, three towering guards had appeared, and brusquely demanded that Marluxia turn over one of the pots. Glancing across the street, he let his lips thin as Lexaeus, Axel and Zexion studiously ignored his plight.

"This is the scent of the finest northern roses," Marluxia bought time, glaring at Larxene and Vexen, who were also attempting to ignore him. "May I ask why I must give up half of my bounty?"

"The Sultan will reward you," the gap-toothed guard, obviously the one in charge, said. "This fine perfume will suit the Princess perfectly."

Marluxia tapped his fingers against the terra cotta pots, and then broke into a wide, ingratiating smirk. "How rich will the reward be?"

The guards traded looks, then turned back to Marluxia. "Well enough, Merchant," the guard said shortly, pulling out a pouch that tinkled with munny. "This should suit."

And Marluxia, playing the part of the greedy merchant to a T, snatched up the purse and opened it up. "The jar is yours, good man. All yours."

With a rather smug, triumphant grin, as if he'd gotten something for nothing, the guard gestured for the others to pick up the pot, and they headed out.

Marluxia glanced at Vexen, who simply shrugged. "There's money in the pouch," the blond said. "He didn't rip us off."

"Well, then, back to business," Marluxia shrugged, and waved a hand, dismissing the guards and their pot of perfume.

Things all went to hell when they encountered the Heartless. Everything had been going smoothly, so very flawlessly; they had been wandering the stalls, picking up the basic supplies they knew they were going to need in the coming weeks, and emergency rations in case of another… accident.

"These," Lexaeus had said, gesturing to their emergency potions and munny, along with a few blankets and other necessities, "we will have on our persons _at all times_. There will be no exceptions."

It was duly noted that Zexion gave his portion to Lexaeus, who stowed it away without a fuss.

 _Freeloader,_ Marluxia thought to himself. _How utterly pathetic._

And then the stall to their left had exploded, and a gaggle of Luna bandit Heartless leapt out into the street. The merchants simply flung themselves down behind their stalls, hoping for the best. The Heartless wavered for a moment, then ran straight for a raggedly-dressed boy with a monkey on his shoulder. Yelping, the boy darted towards the assembled Nobodies, sliding between Larxene and Axel and clambering up the wall of the stall behind them.

"Sorry, best of luck to you guys," he called down. The monkey chattered, and then they were running across the cloth roofs of the stall without another word.

Marluxia stepped forward- or everyone else had stepped back, it wasn't entirely certain what was the case- and the Heartless plowed right into him. Furious, the Graceful Assassin pushed them back, his scythe taking shape in his hand. "How dare you!"

The Heartless milled about for a moment, weaving back and forth, swords waving in the air in front of them. For a moment, the other five Nobodies held their collective breath, watching, waiting to see if they would lunge forward to tear him to shreds, of if they would flee.

When the one in front started to _change_ , they felt utterly floored. Its appearance flaked off, as if a snake shedding individual scales one at a time, and dissolved to nothing on the hot, dry desert wind. The others followed suit, a dark, dusty trail flowing out behind them on the breeze.

In place of the reds, yellows and orange tones of before, there were shades of green. Their swords, once blood-red, were now the pink of Marluxia's scythe. The assembled Nobodies turned to stare at their mimicked comrade, who looked utterly horrified. "What… what is this?"

"What the _hell_ did you _do_?" Larxene shrilled. "What the hell is this?!"

"They must have the ICTIT5 gene," Vexen mused idly. "And I wonder what else Xigbar programmed into these things…"

"Well, let's not find out," Marluxia growled. The Heartless were still staring at him, as if waiting for orders. Without waiting for anything, he swung his scythe around sharply, cleaving the first Heartless in half. If they had had expressions, he believed they would have looked stunned.

Larxene, who had been obviously bored, darted forward and took care of most of the remainder. The Elders were content to stand back and watch the Neophytes work, and offer critique amongst themselves.

Axel did nothing, leaning up against the stall behind them, and watching, expression unreadable.

It was over in a matter of seconds. Larxene licked her kunai and looked around. "Did we get them all?"

"Of course we got them all," Marluxia snapped. "Don't ask stupid questions."

Larxene harrumped, arms crossing. "You'd better hope we did."

"Indeed," Lexaeus rumbled. "If anyone from the Organization happened to see them…"

"Let's get out of here," Marluxia hissed, fighting down a shiver. "Come on…"

People slowly stood up and began to applause as they quickly retreated down the street, towards their room. Chin in hand, a girl watched them go.

"That," she told herself, "would make a wonderful story. I must remember that for the future, I think."


	31. Chapter 029 – Rampant and Wild In The St

Chapter: 029 – Rampant and Wild In The Streets.  
Location: Agrabah  
Characters: Marluxia, Zexion, Axel, Larxene, Vexen, Lexaeus  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13? A bit of violence and swearing.  
Summary: Things start out so well... until yesterday's little blunder pops right back up to start trouble.  
Author's Notes: In KHII Final Mix, the Luna Bandits _are_ actually changed from their standard red and yellow color scheme to pale green with hot pink scimitars. You can't see them and _not_ think "Marluxia!" This is fact. 

**Chapter 029 : Agrabah – Rampant and Wild In The Streets.**

* * *

Zexion was shaken from sleep by a light hand on his shoulder and a low voice speaking his name. He frowned in his half-sleep; Lexaeus was still a steady warm presence beside him, and no-one else had any business whatsoever disturbing him in his sleep.  
He scowled and opened his eyes, his glare intensifying tenfold when he recognized Marluxia's silhouette beside him.  
" _What?_ "  
Removing his hand elegantly but perhaps a touch quicker than was really graceful the Assassin made a small appeasing gesture.  
" I was looking for the tea. It wasn't in Lexaeus' bag, so I'm assuming you're the one carrying it?"  
He sat up and narrowed his eyes.  
" You rummaged through Lexaeus' bag?"

Marluxia raised his eyebrows slightly.  
" Our possessions are held collectively, haven't you always said? He's carrying almost all the kitchen utensils, so it was a logical place to look. I'm preparing breakfast; you're perfectly free to enjoy it without tea if you like, but I for one would rather not. Even if it only _is_ the vile black variety you insist on buying."  
There was something entirely wrong about the statement and after running it through his mind again, Zexion slowly blinked.  
" You're making breakfast? _You_?"  
The tall man looked slightly offended, if only because abashment would never be allowed to sully his noble features.  
" And what of it?"  
One should not have to start the day having that sort of argument, Zexion mentally groused and bit back the ranks of tempting scathing remarks he could have chosen for reply. Now that the topic had been breached, his keen nose did indeed detect the scent of fresh, warm bread, and he suddenly felt quite hungry.

" Fine, fine. I'll get the tea, just give me a minute."  
Marluxia nodded and turned to leave, but halted as Zexion's curiosity got the better of him and he had to ask;  
" Where did you get breakfast, anyway?"  
The Assassin shrugged, but looked quite smug.  
" I woke up early. Our worthy landlady was baking next door. She was quite receptive to modest amounts of horrendous flattery and the last dash of perfume from yesterday. Nothing to it."

As the man left Zexion shook his head in incredulity. It would forever surprise him that people who didn't know him very well would occasionally mistake Marluxia for polite or even charming.  
 _Charming as poison ivy, and about as easy to get rid of._

A quick glance to his side confirmed his guess that Lexaeus was well awake, meeting his inquiring eyes with a calm look; surely no-one would ever have been allowed to approach Zexion in his sleep without his guardian knowing.

There was no need for words, just a small pleased nod before he got out of the bed to produce the tea.

Marluxia could have sworn Zexion hadn't touched the very small bag slumped in the corner but when he turned around he found the short Nobody standing there with the bag of tea-leaves. Did the man actually carry the stuff in his pockets? Maybe Lexaeus had had it, after all.

As the smell of tea and fresh bread wafted through the still decently cool room, the others woke one by one, seemingly quite delighted to find breakfast ready.

Stooping to communal collaboration with his former subordinates still rankled, but after the recent streak of disastrous events he'd been forced to admit to himself he might want to inspire a touch of goodwill among his ill-natured traveling companions.  
Pull his own weight, bring home a bit of munny, supply a meal or two, and hopefully in the future the bastards would be more willing to lend a blanket on a cold night - without demanding instant and humiliating reciprocity.  
His eyes were involuntarily drawn to the gaunt figure at the far end of the once fine but now worn and grubby carpet that served as their dining place. Haughtily ignoring him as usual Vexen had at least deigned to accept the simple but appetizing breakfast.  
 _Bastard, indeed._

Fingertips suddenly grazed the nape of his neck and sent an amicable shock down his spine, leaving his every nerve tingling excitedly and tearing him quite forcefully from all previous dark brooding.  
" Morning, love," Larxene yawned, trailing her nails affectionately over his shoulder as she walked past him towards the carpet.  
Considering what those nails had done to his back and shoulders the night before, he was quite grateful for the relative protection provided by his splendid new coat; there was a _reason_ he had woken early that had had nothing to do with the smell of bread and everything to do with stinging scratches.

Ignoring the sulky scientist right back he fired Larxene his most charming smile and spent the rest of breakfast engaging in playful small talk. A complete bitch the Savage Nymph may be, but at least _she_ never pretended otherwise.

Having spent most of the day before dutifully making money, today promised to be a day of well-earned rest and leisurely shopping.

" Say, Lexaeus," Vexen droned, " ICTIT5-related reactions had the most annoying habit of duplicating and infecting other nearby Heartless, didn't they?"  
Zexion was standing to the side with his face buried in his hands.  
" Yes," Lexaeus sighed. " That was the main reason we wanted it eradicated, after all. It's far too unstable."  
Axel was leaning against a nearby wall, sniggering uncontrollably.  
" I seemed to recall that was the case, yes," Vexen nodded with a mix of exasperation and scientific satisfaction.

Marluxia's face was a most intriguing shade of grey, a look of pure horror in his eyes as he stared at the bands of green-and-pink Luna Bandits tearing through the bazaar, turning over stalls and sending the locals running in panic.  
" How..?" he croaked. " They were _not_ this many yesterday."

" Like I just _said_ ," Vexen elaborated impatiently," A change induced by the ICTIT5-gene is infectious. If a single one of the Heartless from yesterday got away – and indeed I do believe one must have – it can affect others in turn."  
" This is bad beyond all words," Zexion snarled. " Why didn't you just paint 'Hello, Marluxia was here!' all over the palace and get it over and done with? _Idiot_!"

Larxene was staring at the Heartless with a thoughtful, faraway look in her eyes.  
" So… we get to kill them, right? All of them?"  
" Damn right," Zexion growled between his teeth. He turned to the shaken Assassin and poked him hard in the chest. " This is _your_ mess, and you'd _better_ clean it up! Every last one. If a single one remains it'll be like this again in hours. We could just give up and give in right away."

Marluxia seemed to get a grip on himself and focused on the shorter Nobody in front of him. For a moment he seemed about to snap back, protest, pass the blame, but glanced over at Lexaeus and obviously thought better of it.  
" I'm going to acquire some assistance," he said stiffly. " I can't eradicate that many by myself if they keep spawning."  
" Don't worry, darling," Larxene crooned, clinging to his arm, her eyes alight with the prospect of a good hunt. " I'll be more than happy to help."

" We'll _all_ have to help," Lexaeus rumbled, and the steady look he gave Marluxia was expressionless enough to make the Assassin squirm visibly. Zexion nodded in disgust and stepped up to Lexaeus.

Vexen clenched his hands and gave an angry hiss. It took another few seconds for Axel to catch on, but then he quickly stopped laughing.  
" Oh, come _on_. Stuck with you _again_?! Come on, please, someone wanna trade?"

" Enough whining," Zexion muttered. " We have work to do. And if it is at all possible, _try_ not to cause an utter disaster this time. I understand you imbeciles obviously haven't realized, but we're trying to keep a _low profile_ here."

" Oh! Like you two in London? We've got it," Larxene smiled and blew him a kiss. Ignoring his angry scowl she tugged on Marluxia's sleeve. " Enough talking. Let's go kill things!"

Watching the disappearing backs of their companions, Axel put his hands behind his head and looked up at the cloudless sky.  
" Well. We're on solid bedrock here, so you probably can't sink the town… That's something, at least."  
Vexen growled a muffled cursed through teeth clenched hard enough to creak.  
" Shut _up_ , Axel! Or by all Powers of Darkness, I'll freeze you to the nearest wall and leave you there."

Axel lowered his hands to his sides and narrowed his eyes slightly, firing off his best diabolical grin.  
" Are we threatening each other with elemental powers now? Cuz I'm pretty sure I'm faster than you, and if I blasted _you_ to a wall, you would _not_ thaw and walk away afterwards."  
It was always so rewarding teasing out that gleam of pure terror in the Elder's eyes, even more amusing when he tried to conceal it with anger.

" Don't be daft!" the scientist snapped, stepping away. " You heard the others, we have work to do. Save your childish threats for the Heartless."

He shrugged with enough of a remaining grin to earn himself a wary glare before Vexen turned to survey the empty street. At least most human witnesses had fled, so there would be no awkward explanations needed. Either way, this seemed to be the sort of place where 'magic' would be bought as explanation for _anything_ without blinking.

" Well," he said to himself and summoned his chakrams, " Let's get down to business, then."

Leaving the others to cleanse the marketplace, Zexion led the way through the winding alleys, sniffing out Heartless for Lexaeus to effortlessly cleave with his huge tomahawk. Annoyingly enough there was no real change in scent between the normal and altered Luna Bandits, and so it was a pure guessing game tracking down the deviants.

" Why on earth would Heartless carry munny?" he muttered to himself as another dissolved into shadow beside him, leaving a few coins behind. " Have they always displayed such hoarding behavior?"  
Lexaeus stopped by his side, tomahawk slung over his shoulder, and contemplated the question.  
" Perhaps. As long as they fulfilled their primary purpose we never did bother studying any other quirks much closer. Or perhaps these trinkets are merely what their human counterparts carried at the time that they lost their hearts."  
" Ah, yes…" Zexion nodded, picking up a handful of the coins left behind, turning them over to study them. " That might make sense. There's another group behind that stall over to the left, by the way. Take care of them so we can move on down the other street, will you?"

So slaying Heartless might, if you were lucky, result in monetary bounty. Good to know, although it was labor a tad too conspicuous and grueling for his tastes.

Despite the horrible company, there was definitely a certain satisfaction destroying the mutated Heartless, Vexen concluded. Every one of them displayed enough of Marluxia's colors, mannerisms and even distinctive scent that freezing, crushing and destroying them worked wonders for working off justified stress and frustration.

 _Freeze_ \- for all past pain and humiliation. Using ice-magic under the ruthless desert sun was straining, but worth the effort.

 _Shatter_ \- green and pink shards flying, pink scythe-like blades whirling away and dissolving into nothingness. _He should have been left dead._ It had been utter folly to retrieve and revive the treacherous Neophytes.

He spun and slammed his shield hard enough against an approaching Luna Bandit that its blades splintered and left it standing with harmless handles and a blankly surprised expression. _Should have been left dead._  
There was a faint whiff of withering roses as he impaled it on one of his shield's spikes.

 _For all the pain you put me through, you bastard._  
They died, one by one.

 _For betraying me. Sacrificing me. Throwing me away like so much trash._  
He wished their eyes had been blue, not yellow. Wished they would have screamed as they died, not just faded silently, expressionlessly.

What an idiot, to have blundered right in among them even after having been warned about their unstable genetic configuration!

 _For using me. And for replacing me so very easily, you licentious piece of filth._

The Assassin and his Nymph seemed unable to keep their hands off of each other these days, never bothered to keep their voices down or their displays private. Well, they deserved each other. Knowing them they'd probably tear each other to pieces sooner rather than later, and save the rest of them their insufferable presence.

He heard Axel laugh nearby, engulfing a group of Heartless in roaring flames, and there was a horrible and surprising satisfaction in seeing them die that way, breathing the intoxicating incense-like smell of burning flowers.

He didn't even bother freezing the last remaining Heartless, just clenched his free hand around its throat and squeezed until the glow faded from its eyes and it hung utterly limp and broken in his grasp before finally dissolving into dark nothingness.

 _Damn you._

Another band of Heartless burst in on the scene.  
Watching the first writhe as it froze over didn't help much, but it was better than nothing.

Larxene was all but soaring, leaping from stall to stall, slashing, casting lightning and throwing her kunai in merciless rains of instant death.  
It had been long, much too long since she had been completely unleashed in all her destructive glory. Stuffy and constricting as the Organization might be, there had been a few times, wondrous times, when she'd been pointed to some world or another, commanded to destroy, and then let loose. Glorious times.

Why, after all, have all this lovely power if not to use it?

The tainted Heartless occasionally tried striking back, but that only made it all the more fun, adding the thrill of a challenge, no matter how small.  
She paused on top of a flat roof to look around for more Heartless, breathing hard, thrilled with the killing.

In an open space at the centre of the square Marluxia was a tightly controlled whirlwind of death in his own right, sometimes moving so fast he seemed to blur in and out of vision.

She'd always seen the killer in him, even when some of the other Nobodies would laugh or scoff behind his back at his unconventional element and unmanly hair color. She'd never laughed, just looked into his eyes the first time they met and seen a soul much like her own; restless, hungry, utterly ruthless.

She grinned.  
She loved to watch him fight; for all his aloof sophistication, he was a true killer just like her.

Not even witnessing the Graceful Assassin earning his epithet over and over could provide enough distraction to keep her away from her own task, however, no matter how enjoyable the show.

Another bundle of Heartless appeared on the roof.

Larxene smiled and leapt.

" So," Axel said, catching his chakram again after decapitating a nearby Heartless, " You _have_ thought about what the name of that gene actually spells out, haven't you?"  
Vexen was breathing hard after the fighting, but straightened and shot him a wary glare.  
" What do you mean?"  
He paused the Heartless-hunting for a moment and shrugged.  
" Well, it's obvious, right? ICTIT5? You know. 'I see'-…"  
Vexen's pressed his thin lips so tightly together that his mouth just ended up a flat line across his pale face.

" Axel," he growled, tried patience twanging in every strained syllable, " I have worked together with Xigbar for almost ten years. I worked with his original self for decades before that. Do you really believe, for even a second, that I haven't been exposed to just about all the lamest, crudest, most imbecile gags and acronyms ever allowed to sully the field of science on a daily basis for all that time?"  
Axel tilted his head slightly, impressed against his will.  
" So you did know? All along?"  
Vexen sniffed and flicked his wrist, impaling a Heartless twenty yards away with a 3-foot icicle.  
" His very first experiment after we formed the Organization he named ICUP-4. By then he was doing it just to spite me, the bastard."

Axel couldn't hold back a grin, even as he spun to roast the Bandits that had been creeping up on him from behind.  
" I always said old Xiggy had a lovely sense of humor. At least compared to the rest of you stuffy guys."  
Deciding the street decontaminated enough for now, Vexen dismissed his shield and crossed his arms with a look of pure disgust on his face.  
" Coarse, rude, annoying beyond words. Yes, I can see how it would appeal to you."

The redhead touched his spiky forelock with an insolent grin.  
" Anyway, I think we got the last of them. What now?"  
The scientist looked up and down the narrow, winding street.  
" We'll keep going. We can't afford to risk missing any others hiding further down the street."

Axel nodded and fell into step with the tall blond.  
" That, and moving on will get us further away from the two freaks going haywire on the marketplace."  
" _Exactly_."  
" Leaving us the chance to just bask in each others' lovely company."  
" Just shut up and walk, Axel."

It was going to be a long day.

The sun had set and the day's blistering heat cooled off to an almost pleasant temperature as a refined but exhausted-looking man swept into the rather shady and quiet little bar. Clutching a handful of coins he approached the desk with a determined expression, ordered a drink and sat down. From the look on his face he'd be staying quite a while and probably spend a fair share of munny, Ali Wuher the bartender judged.  
The hush greeting the newcomer's arrival gradually eased as the cantina's other occupants returned to their own business.

Wuher tugged a rag from his shoulder and began smearing the dirt more evenly over a glass.  
" New in town, stranger..?" he inquired. The pink-haired man gave a surly shrug and emptied his glass.  
" Just passing through," he muttered.  
He nodded wisely and reached for a new glass to polish. The quiet sort was the best kind, especially when paying up front in hard cash. Not that he'd serve a stranger otherwise, not being used to the kind of clientele usually frequenting the fine establishment.

As Marluxia's eyes adjusted to the gloom he could confirm his suspicions that the bar was indeed as sandy and filthy as every other place in this barbaric town, but at least it had drinks, and better yet, a notable lack of Heartless and other Nobodies.

He had been hunting down modified Luna Bandits all day, fourteen damned hours straight, ever so often getting berated, threatened and cursed by his companions when he ran into them.  
As if it was his fault!

 _He_ was not the trigger-happy scientist to have invented that stupid whatever-it-was-called gene in the first place, or failed to control it once it existed! He'd only given the impudent creatures a shove, a single little shove, and spoken less than a handful words to them.

He ground his teeth and waved for the bartender to hand him another drink. It had not been a good day.

Nor would it be a good _week_ if Zexion's final assessment after they parted ways a half-hour before held any truth; judging from the current ratio of Heartless they'd have to spend several more days tracking down and dispatching stragglers to make sure all tracks of their presence here were painstakingly eradicated.  
That prospect, paired with his current hunger, thirst and exhaustion had left him in desperate need of a few precious hours' worth of solitude - and possibly a good stiff drink.

" You look like you've had a bad day, friend," a smooth voice stated by his shoulder. " Let me buy you a drink."  
He suspiciously looked up at the shady customer to his right; a local by the look of it, rather young but dressed as finely as himself, aside from the highly suspicious snake-like boa around his shoulders.  
" And why would you do that?" he asked, knowing better than expecting any sort of kindness in a place like this. The thug to his left was absentmindedly scratching nonsense patterns into the desktop of the bar with an intricate dagger, and not even the grumpy bartender seemed prepared to ask him to stop. _That_ kind of place.

The youth shrugged and made a gesture with his gauntleted right hand.  
" Rumor has it you're the hero of the day! Fighting off all those monsters… Surely that deserves a toast?"  
Inwardly groaning Marluxia wished his new fine robes had had the efficient dark cowl of his old Organization coat to lend him some privacy.  
" Don't talk about it. Really."  
Ignoring his protests the bastard smiled and gestured for the bartender to bring them another round of drinks.

" Just so happens I'm in town looking for… well, a hero. I have a little job I need taken care of, incidentally involving a monster. Have you ever heard of a thirdac?"  
" Not interested," he muttered, nursing his drink. As though Heartless weren't enough!  
" Ah, of course, of course they are. My apologies."  
Had he actually said that out loud? Apparently.

" I've been chasing the bastards all day," he growled, clenching his hand hard around his glass. " Through the maze of filthy hopeless alleys they love here, stumbling through market-stalls, bursting into houses, crawling over rooftops!"  
" I know how it goes," the bearded man to his left nodded in sympathy. " Over rooftops, dangling from ledges… Up that pillar, swing from that pole, climb down that rope! Wall-jump, swing, and don't get me _started_ on sliding down those fancy banners, one day one of them _will_ rip… It's a dog's work."  
Marluxia caught himself and closed his mouth.  
" Right," he agreed, if somewhat weakly. The bartender gave the flamboyant thug a nod.  
" Day's truth. Another drink, Prince?"

Shaking his head the Assassin turned his attention back to his glass, which appeared to be empty. A downright offensive state of affairs, really, that needed to be immediately amended.

The cantina was rather cozy after all; the hushed music catchy and the company not too bad after a drink or five. Several hours had passed.

" And and. There's this blond. You know? Bloody ice-queen, playing hard to get! Can't make's mind up. Bitch."  
His two new friends nodded in marinated, grieving sympathy.  
" I know how it goes. I once abducted this princess and made her my slave girl. You wouldn't _believe_ how long it took for her to warm up to me. All cranky because we sacked her town a bit," Prince said. The young sorcerer nodded glumly, staring into his glass.  
" Princesses are like that."  
Marluxia nodded vaguely, trying to hold on to the train of thought he'd been following, despite the bumpy ride.

" I mean, it wouldn't be so bad if the idiot could just _decide_ , right? One moment it's hate, next come hither, let's have sex, and then next morning the bastard won't speak a word to you… What're you supposed to make of that, I ask?"  
" Women," Prince said sadly, shaking his head. The sorcerer patted the slimy boa Marluxia had now learned was the man's familiar; some phallic flying eel-like creature. Absolutely horridly suggestive thing, really.

" Damned intellectellectuals. They'll worship science like a god, but wouldn't know logical behavior if it bit them in the ass."  
" Tried just taking what you want?" the necromancer suggested. He grimaced.  
" That's part of the problem, I think. I did - not that the insatiable creature didn't _want_ me to! But now? Hah! Bastard would nurse a grudge forever."  
He peered thoughtfully at his glass and unsteadily fished out a few more coins.  
" Bartender? I drink another need."

" So, you're a magician, are you?" the bearded man asked. It was really amazing how Prince could make his drinks last forever. Marluxia shrugged slightly.  
" Is that what the rumor says now? I guess you could say so."  
The necromancer leaned forward with an interested gleam in his dark eyes.  
" Really? Do tell, I find the company of fellow sorcerers so… intriguing. What sort of magic do you wield?"

The Graceful Assassin realized somewhat belatedly there was no really good way to answer that question without a rather long explanation. He cleverly bought some time by occupying himself with his new drink.  
" I got dragged into one hell of a mess concerning the Sands of Time," Prince confided, gesturing with his extravagant dagger for emphasis. " By using the Sands, I can manipulate Time."  
The sorcerer brightened.  
" A fellow sand-magician? I work the secrets of Black Sand myself. Illusions, portals, raising the dead, messing about with the forbidden magicks of Hell… the usual stuff."

Sand. Well, that'd make sense for people living in the desert. They should meet up with Lexaeus, Marluxia thought sourly. They'd have a right party together.

He shuddered at the unbidden thought of Lexaeus – he _still_ didn't know whether the Silent Hero knew anything about the failed assassination-attempt or not. But surely the man wouldn't have saved his life had he known? Surely not. Probably not.  
He made a face and firmly expelled the large man from his thoughts, gulping down the rest of his drink for emphasis.

The two men had finished talking about gravel and turned back to him, waiting politely for his answer. Apparently there was just no avoiding it.

" Flowers," he muttered into his glass.  
The horrible eel cackled out loud and he glared at it. The creature's obviously queer owner coughed politely into his ungloved hand.  
" Indeed? I'm sure that can be… useful."

He _liked_ his element.  
He was _good_ at utilizing it to its fullest potential and beyond, a match for any opponent, more skilled than most. And yet, still, there were times when he envied Nobodies like Axel or Larxene.  
No-one ever snickered or asked stupid and sometimes inappropriate questions if you stated that you worked elements like fire or lightning. But mention flowers and things were guaranteed to go downhill.

" 'Nother drink, bartender," he seethed. Stupid element! Stupid locals. Stupid Heartless. And stupid, stupid, stupid Vexen.

" I'm an assassin, too, you know" he divulged somewhat defensively, trying to save some of his ragged dignity. Prince nodded pityingly.  
" I caught you slaying a few of those small dahaka. Nice moves."  
Commiserating praise was praise nonetheless and he nodded morosely.  
" Thank you."

The prospect of another long day of Heartless-hunting loomed on his mental horizon, refusing to be further clouded by wonderful alcohol.  
Damn it all.

" I should probably get moving," he confided, climbing somewhat unsteadily to his feet. The two nice gentlemen nodded and raised their glasses to him.  
" If you change your mind about catching that thirdac for me, be sure to let me know. I'd make it well worth your trouble," the necromancer said. He nodded politely, then wished he hadn't as the room spun gently.  
" I'll think about it."

" Best of luck with that stubborn blonde bombshell," Prince said, giving him a comradely pat on the shoulder.

Nice people. For being, well, people.  
He bowed as elegantly as he could manage without falling over, then turned and left.

" Damn, that's got to have been the gayest man I've ever met," Prince mused, then looked around to make sure the bartender wasn't watching as he turned back the flow of time around his glass to refill it.  
" He _was_ very… pink, wasn't he?" the skinny young sorcerer nodded in agreement.  
" Rather floral."

They contemplated this in silence for a while. Then with a tone of feigned disinterest the younger man spoke again, stroking his familiar  
" So… You up to anything special tonight?"  
Prince shook his head, swirling the liquid around in his glass.  
" Not really, no. You got any suggestions?"  
The necromancer smiled.  
" We could go over to my place. You could capture that magical monster for me and I could indeed… make it worth your trouble."

Prince stroked his well-trimmed beard thoughtfully, then emptied his glass.  
" Why not. Is it far?"  
The sorcerer stood and grinned.  
" Only a swirl of Black Sand away…"


	32. Chapter 030 – Lies Too Good To Last

Chapter: 030 – Lies Too Good To Last.  
Location: Agrabah  
Characters: Marluxia, Vexen, Larxene, Axel, Zexion, Lexaeus.  
Rating/Warnings: G (some swearing)  
Summary: The hunt for Heartless goes on… Gotta catch'em all! 

**Chapter 030 : Agrabah – Lies Too Good To Last.**

* * *

The morning light shining in though the small windows was muted, but still enough to glare painfully into Marluxia's eyes. With a groan, he rolled over and buried his head into his rolled-up robe, but only succeeded in setting off a killer headache. It was a pity Nobodies were not immune to the feeling of pain.  
 _How much did I really have last night?_ Surely not _that_ much; he could even remember the whole evening, including the rather unsteady walk home though the dark, narrow alleyways. Some of the discussion from the bar floated up from the murky depths, and he winced.  
 _If there is any mercy in this universe, let me never meet those men again._  
Least of all in the company of Vexen. He did not even wish to consider what the alcohol on this world must be brewed on. His mouth tasted like dead rats.

He could hear the others stirring, and determinedly screwed his eyes tighter shut. Let someone else go get the breakfast today.  
His prayers seemed to be answered; hushed voices and then the sound of the fire crackling and feet shuffling out though the door reached his ears. When the tempting aroma of brewing tea began to fill the air, he rolled around to be greeted by the sight of Lexaeus removing the teapot from the fire as Vexen returned though the door, carrying a stack of flat bread.

The breakfast was a muted affair, everyone tired and worn out after yesterday's hunt. After the last chunk of bread had been swallowed down, Marluxia grudgingly donned his robe and waited for Vexen to be done with the communal comb. The impossible man finally handed it over with a sniff, not even looking at him. Marluxia glared at his back, caught up in the remnants of last night's confessions. _Bah. I was drunk. That's all there is to it._ Forcing the matter to the back of his mind, he set about his morning toilet. The pink hair was a mess, but a focused five minutes later, he was sure he had combed most sand out of it. A splash of water from the basin, and he was ready to go.

"Someone needs to do the dishes," Zexion said. "I am not doing them twice in a row." His gaze came to rest upon Marluxia, who shrugged and headed for the door.

"I prepared breakfast yesterday. Let someone else do it. I have Heartless to hunt."

The Schemer nodded, and turned to Larxene and Axel as Marluxia ducked out though the door and into the blinding sunlight.

 _Slash. Parry. Kick._ The bloody things seemed to be everywhere, even after yesterday's clan-up. And Marluxia had to admit it to himself; after yesterday's little… relaxation, movement was not quite as easy and graceful as usual. The heat was driving his headache to new levels, and he took a few minutes to duck his head under the cool spray of the nearest fountain and gulp down mouthfuls of water. The tendrils sneaking though his hair and down his neck felt wonderful. Like cool, thin fingers dragged though his hair… _Stop thinking of that!_ The people of the street eyed him curiously, but not unfriendly, a few had apparently seen him dispose of the latest batch of Heartless and even nodded approvingly.

This could only lead to trouble. He did not _want_ anyone to recognize him, least of all as the scythe-carrying man apparently immune to Heartless attacks. Dragging the cloth of his keffiyeh across his face, he set off down the street. Larxene crossed his path up ahead, jumping from rooftop to rooftop with thoughtless grace. The regular people down in the street didn't even notice her, not even when a well-aimed kunai laid down a Heartless in mid-leap.

Seeing her spread death and destruction around her so easily stirred something within him. With a small smile, he hurried after her, effortlessly navigating up the maze-like city towards the roof. Larxene could be _very_ intense when caught in the right mood. And Darkness knew he could use some time lying down.

There seemed to be less of the mutated Heartless around today. Lexaeus and Zexion had gone out together after leaving Vexen to do the dishes: a steady schedule of duties had begun to assert itself as the days passed. Vexen had hardly minded spending a few more minutes indoors rather than once again venture out to dispatch Luna Bandits.  
It had begun to feel like the only reason for their slow success was the fact that they had nearly eradicated every member of the specimen present, infected or not.

As had become their habit, the pair left the narrow street behind and entered the desert. Lexaeus' powers were so much more effective out in the open, where no walls or inconvenient spectators stood between him and the enemy. Not so in a land made up of sand and rock. Zexion's tasks was mostly to spy the flocks of Heartless over the dunes, a not entirely easy task when the wind and sun conspired to drive up dust clouds and bewildering mirages. Now he squinted though the fine haze at something moving towards them.

"I am not sure. Let them get closer."

Lexaeus only nodded and leaned onto his tomahawk. The weather out here was taxing for all of them, perhaps excluding Axel. The indistinct shapes slowly revealed themselves, and Zexion shook his head and turned away. "Only a band of riders. Let's move on."

The mounted group passed them on their way to the city, their blue-clad rider nodding pleasantly before leaving them in the dust cloud behind them. Lexaeus and Zexion both choked, pressing their gloved hands to their mouths.

"That's enough. We can kill things inside the walls today."

Zexion eagerly followed his companion back though the gates, even though the sand still filled every nook and cranny and rose in little puffs wherever one walked.

"I am thirsty," Zexion stated. "Let's have some of that delicious cold tea they serve here."

"Are you sure we can afford it? It's quite expensive."

Zexion sighed. Lexaeus could be positively stingy at times, and not even Zexion's charms would make him change his mind.

"Just give me a few of those quarter coins they have here?"

Lexaeus handed the small copper coins over and just as he had before in the marketplace, Zexion flipped them easily though his fingers, smiling as they took on a golden shine. "Now we have enough for tea, I think."

Vexen had managed to avoid Axel for the most of the day, making sure to stay close enough to observe the younger man while, at the same time, making sure to keep enough distance to avoid talk. Axel didn't mind. He was equally horrified with the idea of them being paired up with each other for the coming future. The stuffy scientist might be fun as hell to verbally torment, but it _so_ wasn't worth it.

The last four days scouring the city together would have been intolerable if it hadn't been for the glorious destruction they left in their wake. The old man was a surprisingly competent fighter, and killed the Heartless as if he had some personal grudge against them. But after days of it, they were both sick and tired of it.

Axel threw his chakrams with force, cleaving the last Bandit in two before leaning his back against the wall and watching it evaporate. Sweat stuck to his brow, and while he relished in the warmth, the stickiness and sand he could do without.

They had cleared this street. The small groups of infected Bandits were getting fewer and fewer and farther between. They had to hunt them out now, rather than just mowing them down as they appeared behind every corner. Vexen was already heading away, and Axel glumly fell into step. Being teamed up with Mr- Stick-up-the-Butt made him long fiercely for the company of Roxas. Roxas would be fun and they would eat ice cream and the kid would look at him with those big, blue eyes. Too bad Xemnas would let Saïx loose on his skinny ass if he turned up in the World That Never Was in the current circumstances.

They passed a line of small cafés, all of them peddling glasses of cool tea and hot coffee and fragrant water pipes. The aromas hung heavy in the air.

"Hey, mister! Have you seen my ass?!"

Axel looked down. The caller appeared to be a very short and very… well, butt-ugly woman dressed in the "baggy pants, bra, gauzy veil"-style that apparently was all in the vogue here. It looked, he thought, mostly like a dressed-up, shaven monkey.

The woman impatiently nudged him in the ribs none too gently. "Hey! I asked you a question!"

"No, lady, and I am quite sure I do not want to."

"What?! It is a perfectly fine donkey!"

"Oh, a _donkey_. You know, that is such a relief."

"You're just saying that because I am a woman, you male _pig_.

"Right on spot, lady!"

Vexen rolled his eyes as the argument escalated, a ring of amused onlookers surrounding the screaming couple. Seemed like Number Eight had found someone on his own level. A heavy-set man in a fez and white shirt sitting in the nearby café sighed. "Beti, is now really the right time for this?"  
"Let her be," his thin, astute looking companion suggested. "It's your turn."

A chess board was placed between the two men, and Vexen eyed it with some interest.

"My apologies over my friend, gentlemen, I am afraid he's rather lacking in manners."

The thin man nodded courteously. "Fortunately, then he is in good company. Our Beti is... a vocal young lady." The shrill shrieks from the street proved him right.

It was clear at a gaze to Vexen that the fat man was losing miserably. Leaning over him, he whispered "Rook to D-5" in his ear. The man eyes him suspiciously, but moved the piece to the directed square. The other man raised an eyebrow, then gave Vexen a pleased nod. "I rather think our friends in the street will be happily occupied for a while. Why don't you have a seat?"

It was indeed rather a while later when Axel stumbled up to the table, face red and locked in an angry frown. "That… that… woman!"

The woman in question was standing in the middle of the street, positively glowing with pride and surrounded by a gaggle of women all ages that appeared to be congratulating her. Axel snarled wordlessly.

"Oh, don't let her get to you," the thin man suggested lightly. "She is a killer in an argument."

Vexen rose with some regret. "It appears we won't have time to finish our game, Mr. Gulli."

"Regrettable. But who knows? There might be some other time."

"One can hope."

"A quick question, before you leave? We are in some need to find a magic carpet. You don't happen to know…?

"Alas, no. I am sorry." Vexen bowed lightly, before grabbing Axel's arm and dragging him down the street. Beti was still surrounded by her admirers, and a young woman who looked slightly familiar was jotting down notes on a pad as quick as she could.

"Oh, lady Beti, you _must_ tell more of those stories! They are even better than Sinbad's!"

Axel tore himself free with a snarl once they were out of earshot. Vexen smirked.

"See? Maybe one day you'll learn common courtesy, and then these public humiliations won't happen to you."

"Shut it. Just shut it, old man."

Vexen only snorted, but took a wary half step back as fire began to glow in the palms of Axel's hands. He dove for the nearest doorway as Axel hurled a fireball down the street, shouting obscenities. It hit a haystack and burst into flame. Vexen muttered a curse. By pure luck they were alone in the small alley, but soon someone would come investigating the thick smoke.

"Oh, my. Such a sore loser."

They both looked up for the owner of the sweet, mocking voice, finding Larxene perched on top of the wall above them.

Axel glared up, clearly not appreciating the jibe. "You shut it too, you bitch!"

She laughed at that, but it turned into an angry yelp as a fireball streaked by her face. Overbalancing, she tipped backwards, and the two men in the alleyway could only hear the crash, the honks, whines and yells of various animals, the soggy, moist, splashing noises and the sound of Larxene screaming bloody murder on the other side of the wall.

In a display of very rare unity, they looked at each other with small smiles and then quickly made themselves scarce.

By now a whole _week_ passed, a whole week full of nothing but the grueling hunt for Heartless, broken only by sleep and food. But it was beginning to show real results; yesterday had yielded only the odd Luna Bandit in isolated spots, and Lexaeus and Zexion had not spotted a single one the entire morning before heading back "home" to prepare for dinner. Given that Axel had prepared the dinner the day before, some good food was much needed.

Marluxia and Larxene returned as the pots were beginning to boil, reporting that they also had been unsuccessful in finding any Heartless today.

Maybe they had really succeeded in their mission? Lexaeus nearly shied from the wording, finding it all too connected to memories of Xemnas and the Organization. But that was an irrational way to react, especially when it was only the ghost of lost emotions that reared their heads. There was no Organization here.

The tempting aroma of hot meat and spicy sauce was a welcome distraction from his broodings. The food was nearly done. Zexion looked into the water jug and sighed. "We are out of water. Lexaeus, would you…?"

He nodded and picked up the buckets, heading out for the fountain in the square to fill them. He stood in line with the local women (most of those giggling quietly at the sight of him), and then headed back, careful not to spill the liquid.

Up ahead, on a side street, there seemed to be some commotion. Lexaeus threw a glance that way, checking for any missed Heartless.

A familiar face made him back into the shadows. The irate voice filled the street.

"They must be staying somewhere here! Excuse me, oh fair lady of shining eyes."

The men had stopped by a female peddler's stall, and the woman gave the short speaker in the huge turban an amused glance.

"We are looking for two men, dressed in black robes. One short, one tall. Have you seen them, oh goddess of commerce?"

The woman shook her head with a shrug. "No, worthy gentleman, I have not."

"Thieves! They paid me those coins, but this morning, they had turned to brass in my purse!"

The man waved the offending money around as a point of emphasis, and Lexaeus winced. That tea had come back to haunt them. Water splashing around his ankles, he hurried back to the room.

The sun had nearly reached zenith, and Vexen and Axel made their way back for dinner and some well earned rest. The city had been quiet today, not a single Luna Bandit in sight. Axel was still on the lookout, keeping an eye on the high roofs where the last stragglers had hid the day before. Maybe he should have looked more carefully where he went.

"Ough!"

The knee-high, armless, ball-shaped Heartless he had stumbled over regarded him owlishly before jumping away on small, jerky legs. Vexen dismissed his hastily summoned shield, smirking at the man on the ground.

"A bit clumsy today, are we?"

Axel scowled up at him, by now surrounded by a whole gaggle of the small Heartless. They stared down at him, all of them jumpy and erratic.

"Yeah, yeah, very funny- look out!"

The first of the Heartless had gone rigid, still staring at the fire elemental. With a loud whoosh of flames, it suddenly burst into a ball of red-hot, glowing… something, still jumping around and bumping into the others.

Vexen and Axel watched in horrified disbelief as more and more of the Heartless being bumped into exploded into flaming, warm, very _Axel-like_ new forms. Some of them even exploded for real after being pushed to hard by their frantic neighbours.

"Do something!" Axel tried to scramble to his feet among the milling throng

His shout kicked Vexen back into action. Throwing up his arm, he sent a shower of sharp ice shards into the gaggle, nearly hitting Axel in the process. The struck Heartless dissolved into Darkness, but a few ones, merely wounded, instead went up in even louder explosions.

A few of the Heartless on the sidelines stopped to watch him decimate their fellows, then froze in their spots. Axel had crawled to his feet in time to see their skin develop a thick, transparent coating of… ice.

"Oh, _fuck_."

Both Nobodies acted as one, filling the street from side to side with flames and whirling projectiles of ice. Heartless died in bursts of flame or a quick fall of snowflakes. But even as they whirled and leapt, trying to get them all, they could see individuals and pairs speeding jerkily away over roofs and down alleyways.

In the end, they stood back to back, panting.

"We'll... never…get them all."

"Not this… way." Vexen agreed, pressing a hand to his chest. "We'll need the others."

They both paused to reflect upon that statement.

"Maybe… not." Axel said slowly.

"Maybe not," Vexen agreed. "After all, fire and ice are so much more… generic. No one would ever guess we were the source, would they?"

"Nah. Never in a million years."

The words left unspoken were clear to both. _We do not need to be blamed for another disaster._

"Let's keep this between ourselves, shall we? No need to disturb the others."

Axel nodded. "Sure."

"And no more mentions of the boat, either."

"Aw, man…"

"I mean it."

"Oh, fine then. Spoilsport."  
Leaving the cursed alley behind, they hurried back to the room. They suddenly had quite a burning desire to leave Agrabah as soon as possible.

The others were crowded around the fire pit as Axel and Vexen burst in though the door. All faces turned to them, bodies sinking into battle stances for a short moment before relaxing.

"Oh., it's you. Finally." Zexion sounded relieved.

"What is going on?" Vexen looked around him. Nothing seemed amiss.

"We have some… trouble." Marluxia hurried over to lock the door as Zexion herded the pair toward their beds. "Pack your things. It appears a few of the locals are stirring up accusations towards us. We'd better leave."

Axel and Vexen exchanged looks, and then nodded eagerly. "Sounds like a good idea, actually."

The others were already slinging their bags over their shoulders, and Vexen hastened to stuff the few things lying around into his rucksack. Lexaeus crouched down beside him.  
"Did you see any Heartless?"

Vexen did not look up to face him. "We did not see a single Luna Bandit the whole day."

"Good."

As Vexen and Axel both tied their bag shut, a fist began pounding on the door.  
"You! Thieves! Open up! Criminals!"

"Any idea why they are so angry?" Larxene casually remarked.

"I have no idea," Zexion said, then quickly added, "Where are we heading now?"

"Some place without people," Axel sourly suggested.

"And with a decent temperature," Marluxia added.

The others nodded, happy with the notion of not having to deal with local populace for a while.  
"We have plenty of supplies this time around," Lexaeus noted. "It is worth a try."

"Then we are decided?" Vexen awaited the general agreement, then tuned to face the empty wall. The pounding on the door had increased, more voices shouting and arguing outside. He thought he could hear the voice of the landlady, cutting like a knife. "I think I know just the place…"

By the time the angry mob had succeeded in breaking down the door, the only things that greeted them were the smoldering fire pit and an empty room.


	33. Chapter 031- Aurora Borealis

Chapter: 031- Aurora Borealis  
Location: The Mountain Where the Lights Touch the Earth  
Characters: Marluxia, Vexen, Lexaeus, Zexion, Larxene, Axel  
Rating/Warnings: PG/Mild swearing  
Summary: A new world, with new sights, sounds, and surroundings. And a few not-so-new things, too.  
Author's Note: Two brief things: One: The original splash image was lost in a computer failure. Think of this as sort of a "placeholder" for the next one. Two: Sorry about the delay. Grant proposals ate my soul. Enjoy the chapter! 3 

**Chapter 031 : The Mountain Where the Lights Touch the Earth – Aurora Borealis.**

* * *

The first thing Axel noticed was that it was _bitterly_ cold. The second was that the floor beneath them was very, very cold and hard and rocky, with next to no soil development- that meant no vegetation, either. The third thing he noticed was all the brightly-colored lights dancing around them, and he _swore_ he was hallucinating because _animals_ appeared to be dancing around in them.

 _Holy shit, did we hit a bad patch of Darkness or something?_

"Why's it so damned cold!" Larxene shrilled beside him.

Axel peered around him warily. The lights lit up the night sky nicely, and he could see that they were quite a ways up above a boreal forest. _We're on a goddamn mountain. A_ mountain _, in a forest that looks to be pretty damned cold-weather._

"I said a goddamn _temperate_ climate," he raised his voice, turning to glare at Vexen. "A _temperate climate_ , Vexen, do you have _any_ goddamn idea what that _means_?"

"Shut up!" Vexen shot back, gesturing to the land below. "There's no snow on the trees down there- how was I to know exactly _where_ we'd end up?" He certainly didn't seem too upset, however; after the long, hot desert days, the snow and chill of a mountain's summit seemed downright decent. "It's warmer down there!"

"It must be," Marluxia mused, silent until now, enjoying the light show on one end and the fireworks from Vexen and Axel on the other. "The trees are growing well."

"We should go, then," Lexaeus said, and there was an odd hint of reluctance to his tone. The lights faded, leaving them behind in starlight. There was no moon.

"Light the way, Axel," Zexion said, though he had no trouble seeing his way in the near-total dark. "And do walk up front. So the rest of us can see, of course."

"See the way, or see me?" Axel grumbled, starting to carefully pick his way down a scree-strewn path. "Hell, you think you all would trust me by now…"

Four audible snorts met his ears. Larxene only giggled. "Fine then, bastards," he muttered, carefully toeing his way along at ledge. "Shit, Lexaeus you could make this easier on us all."

"No," Lexaeus rumbled, and made no effort to explain to anyone. Everyone looked to Zexion for an answer and the small Nobody simply shrugged, drifting a little closer to his large companion.

"Jackass," Axel muttered to himself, carefully choosing his footing. "Couldn't make it easy on us."

"It's no easier for him, so stop complaining," Vexen snapped.

"Both of you _shut up_ ," Zexion remarked, in a rather uninterested manner. "You're just like children."

A scathing retort was right on the tip of Axel's tongue, when he caught the somber, serious eyes of Lexaeus flicking his way. Swallowing the insult, he turned his full attention on the path down the mountain.

As the ragtag group made their way precariously down the mountain (much too slowly for Axel's taste), the snow died off, turned to mist, and then vanished entirely. The temperature warmed, and it became noticeably easier to breathe.

Reaching the foot of the mountain, Axel promptly doused his flame and flung himself down. "Ok, I'm gonna sleep for a week."

"Not just yet, I don't think," Marluxia looked around. "This is very exposed. We should move deeper into the woods."

"We're _in_ the woods," Larxene groused, wringing water out of her coat. "Can't we just stay here?"

"I agree with Marluxia," Zexion mused, surprising just about everyone. "We should find somewhere a little safer to camp. There's a trail… here. Come on."

"This is stupid," Axel groaned, but slowly pulled himself to his feet with Larxene's help. "And it's still cold."

"It's relatively chilly," Zexion corrected him. "Much warmer than on the mountain. Perhaps you'd like to go back up for a comparison?"

"Fuck you," Axel grumbled, and wrapped his arms around himself. The leather coat was usually nice, but wet it didn't do enough to conserve warmth, and there was no insulating pocket of air between the leather and his skin.

 _Skintight looks badass, but it's shit in cold weather._

Without any choice, he pulled his tattered dignity around him, and followed the others on sore, weary feet.

Zexion had little trouble picking out a decent campsite in the dark. It was a small clearing where a forest giant had died and toppled. Small greenery was just starting to sprout, cold-weather ferns and saplings. The space, however, was still clear enough for them to make a small camp.

"This should do nicely," he said, looking around with some satisfaction. "And the bedrolls we have will keep us all nicely warm."

"Only if you share," Axel muttered. "Or if you're an ice-cold bitch anyway." Vexen bristled, but didn't rise to the obvious bait.

"Well, I know who _I_ want to share with," Larxene announced. Marluxia looked quite smug, arranging his bedroll to his liking as Larxene spoke. "I mean, there's only one smart choice in a place like this."

Marluxia turned, ready to hold out his arm to her, but she was already snuggling up to Axel's side. "Perfect."

"You're such a using bitch," the redhead said, but put his arms around her. "You're lucky I like sadists."

Marluxia couldn't even school his expression. His jaw all but dropped in surprise, then anger flitted across his face. _How dare she! I'm not some toy to be used and cast off in times of boredom!_

"How tragic," Vexen mused, fighting to keep a smirk off of his face. "Did she break your heart, Marluxia?"

"Oh, come now, Vexen," Marluxia said, recovering his aplomb nicely and turning to face the blond Elder. "You know I have no heart to break. And even if I did, what sort of sorrow would I hold over the loss of _that_?"

"He still wants me," Larxene told Axel in a clearly audible stage whisper.

"Allow me to help with the setup of camp," Marluxia brushed past Vexen. "Unlike some, I will make myself useful."

Vexen's eyes narrowed as he watched Marluxia unfold bedrolls and set up the tarp on one side of the clearing. They made no fire; in woods like this, the slightest spark could be a terrible tragedy. Pine needles were dry, and burned with a furious heat. It was like that even Axel would suffer damage if a forest fire were to begin.

 _What are you planning, Marluxia? It's not like you to be so… helpful like this. What's going on behind your eyes? You always were impossible to read, even at the best of times…_

"Should we look for civilization?" he asked, to cover his confusion and mask his close observation of Marluxia.

"I think we've had enough trouble with civilization recently," Zexion said slowly, after a moment. "Despite the fact that we have munny, we should… perhaps… lie low for a little while. Besides, this world seems devoid of human life."

"Yeah, well our last troubles were _your_ fault," Larxene snapped. "We wouldn't have gotten kicked out of town if it weren't for your little sleight of hand tricks."

Zexion's nostrils flared briefly at the accusation. "It was not only my doing," he said, even though it technically was. He looked to Lexaeus for defense, but the Silent Hero was studying the mountain again, seemingly a million miles away. Zexion made an annoyed sound, but didn't elbow his lover back to earth.

Axel and Vexen traded brief looks. "Eh," Axel said, "it was time to get out of town anyway. Can't stay in any one place too long, right?"

"Besides, the desert was not a mutually beneficial situation," Vexen sat down, wrapping himself in the bedroll. "I was suffering, Marluxia was none-too-pleased..."

"It wasn't too bad," Marluxia stroked the silken cloth that wrapped his frame. "I rather liked the people there."

"Right," Axel snorted. "But remember all that running around shit we did? That was your fault, buddy. The people might have liked you because you were such a big hotshot monster killer…"

"And they thought you were a woman?" Marluxia arched an eyebrow, smirking faintly. "How many offers for marriage did you get?"

"Shut the fuck _up_ ," Axel snarled, cheeks flushing faintly. He pulled Larxene a little closer, as if to gloat. "Ignore him, he's just jealous."

"Oh, he was offered marriage? I wasn't paying attention to that, I had my hands full with the illusions." Zexion looked highly amused. "I wish I'd known. I'd have made him an offer."

"That would've gone over real well," Axel drawled. "'I'm sorry, sir, but your new bride has a dick.'"

"I can be a very convincing liar," Zexion smirked, tugging one of Lexaeus' arms around his waist. "And I can create very… _complete_ illusions."

"You're such an asshole," Axel growled. "And you're hogging the tarp, keeping it all over there on that side."

"Do you want to cuddle with _me_ as well? I'm flattered," Zexion drawled, drawing Lexaeus' other arm around him. "I'm afraid I'm quite taken."

"Oh, you can just shove-"

"Go to sleep," Lexaeus rumbled. "We will eat in the morning."

"Yeah, yeah," Axel muttered, settling his head down on the ground. "Jerks."

"Do you always have to have the last word?" Marluxia asked, a touch crossly.

"Do _you_?" Axel countered, one eye opening, gleaming in the starlit darkness.

"Shut it," the warning rumble from Lexaeus effectively killed any brewing argument. When you were as large as he, and your element was as unforgiving, there were no squabbles over who got the last word in any argument.

The pine trees creaked and swayed in the wind as the Nobodies made themselves as comfortable as possible in the dark, and tried to rest.

Marluxia was still very cold. Not as cold as in the desert, and therefore not desperate enough to go crawling to Vexen- oh, how that humility still burned!- but cold enough to be miserable and bitter.

 _Stupid blond bitch,_ he thought, and he couldn't be sure if he meant Vexen or Larxene. _Never there when you need them. One step into a colder clime, and she's curling right up to that fire-wielding ass. And Vexen- he's simply impossible. Why do I even care? Why should I care? How can I? I do not, it's that simple. I do not care…_

He rubbed his eyes in frustrated annoyance. _Just forget about it for now, idiot. Just let it go. Don't obsess._

 _I do not obsess. I never obsess._

 _Sure you don't. Sure._

Gritting his teeth, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the stars. _I do not._

He closed his eyes tightly, and tried to force himself to sleep. _I don't need anyone else, damn it. I'm only staying with the group for safety's sake. I could take care of myself on my own. I certainly don't need Vexen, nor do I want him!_

 _That's right. That's extremely right._

Almost completely convinced, he slowly relaxed every muscle he could, evened out his breathing, and let himself drift into a near-sleep state.

 _I don't need Vexen. Bah. The thought is laughable._

But he was still cold, even in sleep.

Vexen awoke to a dull pounding noise. At first, he was quite ready to bite someone's head off for choosing to cut down trees before the sun was properly up. The forest was full of mist, and the strange half-light of pre-dawn.

And it took only seconds for Vexen to realize that no one was logging, or pounding rocks together, or anything of that juvenile sort.

The path that Zexion had so cleverly picked out in the dark did not run to one side of their camp. It ran directly through it. And absolutely huge… furry… _things_ were pounding through the center of their camp.

Thankfully, they'd taken up positions around the perimeter of the clearing, on either side of the path, but it was not a wide clearing, and the animals- that's what they had to be, though Vexen had never seen their like- were _very_ large, and did not always stay on the path.

Larxene was already up in a tree, Axel scrambling to follow. Vexen simply scrambled back until his back hit a tree, watching the wall of ruddy fur trample through camp.

Then it was gone, the herd of huge animals trampling off into the distance, almost taking their tarp with them. And for a moment, the Academic _swore_ he saw a pair of moose- they had to be moose, after the attack Lexaeus had suffered, he never would have forgotten what a moose looked like- hanging off the back of one of the huge, elephantine beasts.

"…great fucking campsite, Zexion," Axel said. The Schemer in question was pressed back up against Lexaeus, who had raised a wall of dirt between themselves and the animals. "Great. Fucking. Campsite."

"How was I to know!" Zexion's voice was, perhaps, a touch shriller than normal. "There was no scent, no trace, nothing!"

"That was… interesting…" Marluxia, pale, but composed, brushed down the front of his robe. "…perhaps we should pack up and move. There may be more of those things."

"Shit, yes, we'd better move…" Axel all but fell out of the tree in his haste to pack his things. "And fast…"

"I don't think…" Zexion said, then fell silent, glance at Lexaeus. The larger man had obviously been a little shaken, and merely shook his head in a negative gesture. He, too, wanted to leave. Truthfully, so did Zexion. Without another word, he stood and began to gather the bedroll up. "Don't forget anything. We can't afford to lose a single item in these woods."

"That's become painfully obvious," Marluxia muttered, looking around as the dust slowly settled. "What were those things?"

"Did anyone see the moose?" Vexen asked, slowly, glancing at the others.

"…you, too?" Lexaeus rumbled, as Axel nodded.

"Well, I feel better knowing it wasn't just me," Axel said. "Though maybe we were all just seeing things. I mean- that'd just be too weird, even for us."

"We _were_ all barely awake," Vexen admitted. "Perhaps it was some sort of… mass hallucination."

"Let's just get moving," Larxene said, though it was punctuated by a large yawn. "I want to stop for a nap soon, this getting up before sunrise thing has _got_ to stop."

"Which direction? Follow the furry elephants?" Axel asked, shouldering his pack.

"No," Zexion shook his head. "We might run into them again. Let's walk perpendicular to the game trail- away from it entirely. Away from the mountain."

Lexaeus sighed, turning to look at the snow-capped mountaintop. "I would like to stay within sight of it," he finally said. "But we need to get away from the game trail. Where there are prey animals, there are predatory animals."

"He's right there," Vexen agreed, shouldering his own rucksack. "Let's go, then. Backs to the mountain it is, at least for now."

Looking everywhere but at each other, the small band slowly made their way into the woods.


	34. Chapter 032 – Down And Dirty (XXX)

Chapter: 032 – Down And Dirty.  
Location: The Mountain Where the Lights Touch the Earth  
Characters: Axel, Larxene, Marluxia, Vexen, Zexion, Lexaeus  
Rating/Warnings: NC-17. Swearing, violence and graphic gay sex. 8D  
Summary: So we're back in a forest. However things are working a bit better than last time. A _lot_ better in some cases... 

**Chapter 032 : TMWtLTtE – Down And Dirty. (XXX)**

* * *

With its mighty terraced waterfalls, sheltering rock formations and surrounding rich forest the new campsite was infinitely better than their first makeshift camp. Not only was the clean cool water teeming with large fish and the forest offering both greens and game, but they hadn't run into the monstrous tusked beasts – or moose – again after that first night.

A few days had passed, quite uneventfully; especially for them.  
Life was surprisingly good.

Despite the less than perfect start to their stay, the pristine world supplied enough food that they never had to go hungry, the weather was mild even if the nights were cold, there were no pitchfork-carrying mobs around to pick fights with, and they _managed_.  
Thinking back upon the hell of traversing the first forest they had fled to after the fall of Oblivion it was with rather justified triumph the renegade Nobodies boldly ventured to explore and master this little corner of their new domain.

Of course, such peace couldn't possibly last for very long.

It was dark. And it was pouring.  
Rain fell as determinedly from the unseen clouds up above as through the nearby thundering waterfalls. Birds had the audacity to titter happily about it out there in the dark.  
" Well, doesn't this suck," Axel muttered, elbows tucked in and knees under his chin. Even the most stubbornly secluded among the party-members had suddenly felt the urge to socialize once the rain started falling, and it was definitely crowded under the tarp. The fact that just about everyone, while being horribly subtle and inconspicuous about it, tried to lean against him for warmth did nothing to improve matters.  
" We'll have to get a bigger tent," Larxene sulked, shamelessly draped against the fire-elemental, dripping bangs plastered against her face. " We'll never be able to sleep like this."  
" At least it's warm this way," Marluxia pointed out, and despite the apparent innocent sincerity of his voice there was the unmistakable perpetual smugness under the surface. " I thought you so _desperately_ appreciated being warm, Larxene?"  
The petite blonde made a sour face.  
" Not if it means having to spoon with Vexen or Zexion, I don't. No-one's _that_ desperate."  
An expected affronted huff responded from the edge of the shelter where Vexen had finally reluctantly settled down, forced inside by the wet rather than cold.

Zexion sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, quite annoyed with suddenly having to share the confined space with all the others – room was one of those little luxuries you very quickly grew used to. As was privacy.  
" Just lie down and shut up," he groused. " We've dealt with worse."  
Larxene looked as though she was about to protest on sheer principle, but Lexaeus gave her a warning look.  
" Don't."  
" I didn't say anything!"  
" Good. Keep it that way."  
The large man managed to lie down and stretch out between the tangles of limbs with surprising grace, turning his broad back on the rainy night, his imposing bulk providing further shelter from the damp draughts. Zexion gave the rest of the group a poisonous glare, but followed his lover's example and burrowed close to him, pulling a blanket over the two of them until only a sulky tuft of slate-coloured hair protruded somewhere under Lexaeus' chin.

Axel shrugged and managed to hog a spot for himself to curl up in without getting too squished between the black-clad bodies crowding all around. Always the opportunist Larxene had already gone back on her word and snuggled down between him and the blanket-heap that was Zexion.  
" You know, Marluxia," she cooed sleepily," You're right. This _is_ warm."  
The Assassin didn't deign to reply. No matter how tempting the promise of warmth, he had no interest in falling asleep with Axel, his once-assigned executioner, pressed up against his unprotected back.  
Against his will he found his eyes being drawn towards the gaunt, vulture-like shape stubbornly crouching at the very edge of the dry space, colourless hair darkened to mousy-brown by the rain.  
 _Hah._  
The very opposite of warm, and probably no less inclined to kill him than Axel.  
Wrapping himself up in his silken robes and his new blanket he settled back against one of the trees that supported their makeshift tent. It would be a long and uncomfortable night.

The new day broke, as fresh and beautiful as the night had been dark and rainy. Dew sparkled in the gentle morning light, the scene softened even further by swirling gossamer mists rising from water and grass alike where the morning rays touched down.  
The sound of soft snores broke the spell, startling a venturous deer and sending it running.

Under the canvas a huddle of indistinct black shapes slept peacefully in the snug warmth and comfort that only using someone else's belly for a pillow can provide.  
It was with certain reluctance Zexion surfaced from blissful sleep and pried his eyes open, but something tickled his nose something horrible and wouldn't go away no matter how he wrinkled his nose or huffed at it. He blinked blearily at the strands of bleached grass touching his face until his vision focused enough to recognize it for what it was; a most offensive thin arch of pale blonde hair belonging to the horrible woman who was cuddled up next to him, clinging to Axel's arm as though it was a teddy-bear.  
Shocked, disgusted and quite unable to help himself he sneezed, the invasive strands of hair finally falling away from his face.

Startled by the sound five Nobodies jerked awake, although sitting up turned out to be quite a challenge with their blankets, hair and limbs securely entangled.  
On sheer reflex Larxene had a kunai at Zexion's nose before the sneeze had faded, Marluxia was determinedly trying to pull his keffiyeh loose from Axel's coat-ties without strangling himself - although strangling Axel was a convenient bonus - and Vexen found himself reduced to a nastily swearing, floundering heap of coarse textiles as several of the others' flung-aside blankets landed over his head.

" …the _hell_?!" Axel hollered as he tried to dig himself out from the bottom of the pile, obviously having been reduced to the group's collective radiator throughout the night.

As moderate chaos transpired in the background, Zexion crossed his eyes to focus on the razor-sharp blade in front of his nose and he struggled really, _really_ hard to hold back another threatening sneeze. Larxene looked somewhat wild, only half-awake, with her hair sporting quite a lot more springy tresses than the usual two.  
Before he could even open his mouth to try to smooth-talk himself out of the appalling situation, however, a large hand reached over his shoulder and closed down on the girl's wrist so hard he could hear something crunch. The sound was oddly satisfying, as was the entirely unfeigned outcry of pain that followed upon it; the ozone-reeking knife fell harmless from her fingers and evaporated into a puff of Darkness before it touched the ground.

" We do _not_ ," Lexaeus rumbled dangerously in the sudden silence, " draw weapons on our fellow companions. Not under any circumstances. Understood?"  
Perhaps it was only a trick of the faint light, but Zexion could have sworn the Silent Hero's eyes flickered towards Marluxia before they focused back on the ashen girl in front of him. Curious he stowed the notion away to probe at it later.

As Lexaeus finally let go of her wrist Larxene huddled down quite pathetically, cradling her abused arm close to her chest.  
" Bastard," she whimpered, sounding more like a shocked and hurting little girl than her usual brazen self. She glared hatefully at the two Elders before her, then gasped and made a face as she tried flexing her fingers. " You broke it. Bastard."  
Zexion shrugged loftily.  
" Luckily for you we agreed back in Agrabah that we should carry potions with us at all times, didn't we? You should be able to fix it easily enough. Whose turn is it to make breakfast?"  
After all, what day starting so nicely would _not_ lift your spirits and leave you feeling quite refreshed?

The silence that had fallen at the sudden display of violence shattered as muttering Nobodies shoved and pushed to get out of the cramped space.

Bathing in golden light the morning was mild and fragrant, with the filtered sunlight fracturing neatly into rainbows throughout the mists dancing over the salmon-teeming rapids. Zexion stretched with a pleased yawn as he emerged from the tent.  
It promised, indeed, to be a lovely day.

Larxene had stomped off after snatching up her share of their breakfast, cursing and glaring, to go sulk out of sight. No-one was too displeased about this fact.  
Marluxia was quite the opposite, in fact. Let the faithless bitch learn her lessons the hard way; if she chose to turn her back on her allies when things were going well, she would find herself regrettably abandoned when things turned ugly. And her precious Axel certainly seemed in no hurry to console her. Poor, poor girl.  
He smirked and finished his tea.

Zexion was strutting about playing leader again, trying to boss people around, and looked thoroughly crossed when Vexen coolly told him to shut it and stalked off without paying the younger man any heed. Why, poor, poor Zexion, too.  
The Schemer was left seething, and was quite obviously about to lash out to make any other potential victim's day miserable to make up for the suffered slight. Marluxia wisely decided to leave before he was singled out for whatever unpleasant, useless task the little twit had in mind and gently put his empty teacup down. He stood with silent grace and had almost reached the tree line when Zexion turned to give him an accusing glare.  
" Marluxia! It's your turn to do the dishes."

He waved airily without turning around.  
" I made supper last night. I think it's Axel's turn."  
As he made his escape into the cool gloom of the ancient forest he could hear Zexion's aggressive demands and the muted murmur of Axel's sulky reply. His smile widened into a grin.  
Poor, poor deserving bastards.  
Now if only Lexaeus would do them all a favour and go drown in the stream, the day would be perfect.

Axel kicked angrily at an offensive pebble, precariously balancing a generous armful of dishes on his way down to the frigid waters. Despite all the greenery down in the lowlands, this world was _cold_ and the water just about freezing; every now and then small chunks of ice would come drifting lazily downstream as a reminder of the harsh highland climate.  
Trust bloody Vexen to pick a fucking _glacial_ world as cheap payback for the desert.

If he liked the cold so much, perhaps _he_ should get his hands deep-frozen doing the damned dishes, Axel decided. Or Zexion himself, the pushy little bastard, if he could detach himself from the hip of his muscle-mountain bodyguard for just five minutes. Or why not snooty Marluxia, who always seemed to be conveniently absent when the more menial tasks were handed out?  
Grumbling, he kicked at another stone.  
Bastards, the lot of them. He was really getting heartily fed up with the company, no fucking pun intended. Perhaps it really _was_ time to consider moving on.

Thoughtfully he kicked at the stone one last time, sending it splashing into the cold water.

Next world.  
If the next world wasn't any better, then all of them be damned.

Marluxia was pleased with the forest.  
It was huge, ancient, untamed, everything a forest should be. The massive giants of trees reached all the way up to heaven, leaving the dusky pillared world beneath their spiky branches dim and almost magical; vast silent halls between the canopy-ceiling and a forest floor covered with moss so thick he sank down to his ankles in it.  
He rather approved.

As with all their previous outdoor campsites Larxene had promptly declared a section of the woods Ladies' territory, and no-one even bothered cracking the joke of her not obviously being one, gender aside. Most likely that was where she had gone off to, which suited him; he was in no mood for the others' company at the moment.  
There was much to think about.

The look Lexaeus had given him earlier that morning had been most disconcerting. Surely the warrior couldn't possibly know of the failed assassination-attempt back on the sinking boat? If he had known he would never have saved his would-be killer's life, nor let the matter rest untouched for so long. Surely not.  
He frowned.  
Lexaeus was frustratingly unreadable, and much too formidable an adversary to be carelessly ignored.

If, _if_ he knew, why hadn't he acted? Was he only awaiting the right time? Gods knew he had had plenty of opportunities to strike back. Maybe he was just playing mind-games, trying to drive his quarry insane with his apparent indifference, the bastard.

Most annoyingly there was no way to learn what the large man was thinking other than outright asking him, which he was still nowhere near apprehensive enough to do.  
" _Excuse me, are you aware I tried to slaughter you a few worlds back?"_ lacked a certain subtlety, and might be unpleasantly replied to. With a tomahawk.

He made a face and forcefully expelled the thoughts from his mind. Fretting never got one anywhere; whatever Lexaeus knew or didn't know would most likely be apparent in time. There were other matters to consider.

The Heartless-incident in Agrabah had left him much to think about as well; there were many other enemies out there, and leaving any proof of their survival behind could turn out a fatal mistake. He might not like or trust his current company, but he also knew there were likely far worse prospects facing anyone who tried to make it on their own.

If only all the others could stop being such petty obnoxious imbeciles, they might even be able to turn the slapdash party into a working, successful unit. A miniature Organization, an elite troupe, naturally superior to anything they might encounter out there - with only a few given exceptions.  
It would be the intelligent and logical course of action, a vast improvement of their current haphazard plans, or blatant lack thereof.  
Why wouldn't anyone ever _listen_ to him?

He frowned slightly, then paused as a movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention.  
He turned and looked up.  
And suddenly all thoughts of Lexaeus and group-discipline were utterly forgotten.

The clearing glimpsed between the trees was perfect. There was no other word.  
It was almost circular, framed by bare yet ascetically elegant tree-trunks disappearing into the gloom above. Between a few large, smooth boulders rested an ink-black oval of tranquil water, lily-speckled surface smooth as a mirror.  
A few rays of light filtered down through the swirling morning mists and illuminated the magnificent creature rising from the dark waters; androgynous, slender and long-limbed, pale colours all but glowing against the darkness of the surrounding forest.

Marluxia stared and wanted to curse, had not his mouth suddenly gone strangely dry.

The damned man should be bony, stilted and preposterous, annoying and unattractive. But faced with this unexpected, unworldly scene, such thoughts would be blatant lies.  
Because then, there, moving with the relaxed unaware grace only sported when he thought himself utterly alone, Vexen was simply beautiful.

The water was pleasantly cool and refreshing, even though it had that organic quality he still had to get used to after only encountering the dead, sterile waters of Oblivion and The World That Never Was for so long.  
Well, resin-tinted or not, it was wonderful to be properly clean – the others really would do well to get over their squeamishness about the cold and get themselves acquainted with their fair share of water as well. They were definitely developing a certain fragrance, as had become even more painfully apparent after last night's forced proximity. Or would have been apparent, at any rate, had not _certain_ individuals tried to compensate for their filth by an even more sickeningly sweet floral reek.

Absently untangling his hair with his fingers, Vexen waded ashore and stroked the worst of the water off his skin before reaching for his clothes. A good icy airing had taken the worst lived-in smell out of the leather coat, but it was still painfully apparent his clothes could do with a good, proper cleansing. Like, say, a bonfire.  
He sighed.  
Savage living, this was. All other obvious sacrifices aside, he also had to put up with dirty and worse-for-wear clothes. An encounter with an unusually aggressive spiky twig the day before had left a long gash in his robes, and he made a note to go find Larxene and shake her upside down until he had gotten back the surgical needle and thread she had pilfered along with his scalpels and tweezers back on the damned boat.

He had pulled on his pants and boots and was only just shrugging into his coat when the sharp crack of a breaking twig made him look up, suddenly tense. He would rather not encounter either moose or the gargantuan hairy elephants on his own, and he realized too late he was quite far away from camp.  
What he glimpsed between the trees on the opposite side of the pond was far worse than any soulless beast, however; an unmistakable splash of pink against the gloom left no doubts about the intruder's identity.  
Illogically he felt his cheeks grow hot, and he ground his teeth.

" Reduced to peeping now, Marluxia?" he growled, resisting the urge to pull his open robes tightly closed like some shy maiden. " That's low, even for you."

The Assassin shrugged, apparently completely unashamed at having been spotted and elegantly stepped forward between the trees to approach him.

He had stepped on a dry twig. He had actually stepped on an actual damned dry twig. He, the Graceful Assassin, master of stealth and unseen sudden death had been busy gawking like some peasant-boy and so made the most basic error in the book. Had this been an actual mission he would have been dead ten times over by now.  
Gods, the shame.

Ruthlessly fighting down instinctive embarrassment he strolled into the pretty clearing as though it was what he had intended all along.  
" I was not aware you had claimed a Ladies' Forest all your own, dearest Vexen. I was merely passing through."  
Vexen looked about to strangle him on the spot, and he simply couldn't hold back a smirk. So easy, so very easy to goad into lovely radiant anger.

He stopped before the other man, just that little bit too close, and enjoyed watching fury and discomfort struggle for dominance across his features. This was no barren desert; there were plants enough around to balance the world's cold climate perfectly, granting neither of them any obvious advantage. Interesting.

" What do you want," Vexen ground out between clenched teeth. Up close he could see the scientist's pale hair curling slightly in that endearing way it did when damp. He smiled absently.

" I think we left certain matters unfinished last time we had the chance to talk," he pointed out. _Since you were in such a rush to blackmail me, bastard._  
Vexen's eyes narrowed.  
" I have nothing more to say to you," he hissed and stepped back, made as to leave.

 _Oh no, you don't_.

Firmly grabbing onto a sweeping sleeve he jerked Vexen back into place, momentarily distracted by the contrast of the almost-white of the skin glimpsed between areas of inky darkness, smooth and pale compared to the rugged black leather framing it.

" Don't turn your back on me, Vexen," he said softly, surprised himself at how husky and dangerous his voice sounded. " We're not finished. Far from finished."  
For a brief second there was genuine shock and fear in the poison-green eyes, then Vexen's thin face contorted with utter rage, thin lips drawn back to bare his teeth.  
" How _dare_ you," he snarled, unholy light glowing in the depths of his eyes. " Do you really think I am afraid of you? Now? You have no Superior to report to here, no Organization in whose name you can command me. You have _nothing_ , Marluxia. You _are_ nothing."

His ungloved hands came up and grabbed a surprisingly strong hold on Marluxia's silky robes to shove him away. Taken aback by the scientist's venom but refusing to be cast aside he stood his ground, clenching the loose material of the other's open robes in his own hands in turn.

For a moment they stood locked in place, silent battle of wills raging wordlessly between them. Vexen growled and twisted his grip until the silk in his hands was warped enough to almost strangle him, but still he refused to let go.  
Struggling for dominance he forced the lanky scientist back but found himself countered and outmanoeuvred – damn, Vexen could be _strong_ when he wanted – and pushed back against the rough trunk of the closest massive tree in turn.  
Enlivened by the struggle he smiled, and furious and frustrated Vexen raised a hand as though to slap him. He caught the thin wrist in a vice-like grip, back to status quo, and they stared at each other, both of them breathing hard.

" I hate you," Vexen hissed, and there it was, right there, the familiar bitterness, stubborn pride and furious desire, like sunshine and rain upon a withered flower too long cloaked in darkness, and he revelled in it.  
" I hate you, too," he murmured lovingly, inhaling the forest-tinted snowy smell of the man, pulling him ever closer.

Vexen's eyes were narrow baleful slits of loathing, he scratched and shoved and then jerked him closer and gloriously, at last, their mouths crashed together, starved and desperate.  
Thin, cool fingers untangled themselves from the crumpled silk of his fine robes and slid through his hair, behind his head, pressing him closer, deeper into the kiss.

He let go of the man's wrist and impatiently tugged off his own gloves to finally ghost his palm across that alluring pale skin glimpsed beyond the open robes, felt the thin body shiver at his touch.  
Vexen pulled away, lips as swollen as his own, gasping for air.  
" Don't think," he snarled, " don't think this means anything, anything at all. I will never succumb to you again. Traitor. Filth."  
He had barely finished speaking before plunging into another vicious kiss, and giddy with desire and lack of air Marluxia just wanted to laugh.  
" But you will," he breathed, letting his roving fingers venture further under the loose black robes until he found a delicious nipple to pinch down on, triumphant as Vexen threw his head back with a groan. " You want to. You know you want to."  
Vexen's head snapped back, green eyes furious and defiant.  
" Never," he hissed, using his released hand to claw down Marluxia's stomach, ripping soft silk aside to clench down where the Assassin would _really_ feel it.

Marluxia choked and almost bent double as those bony fingers squeezed and fondled him through the fabric of his pants.  
" Gods," he gasped, a most pathetic high-pitched whine. He was offered no respite as the hand in his hair impatiently forced him back upright for another enraged kiss, and he squirmed helplessly, trapped between pain and pleasure and loving it.

 _Mine,_ he dizzily thought as he fought back, ripping and tearing ferociously at the other's clothes. _Mine and mine alone._

Vexen staggered and clung unto him as his hand found its way into the Elder's pants, the man's breathing ragged and heavy.  
 _I'll never let you go again, precious. You belong to_ me _. I will never let you forget that._

They tore at each other like frenzied, furious beasts, unable themselves to tell whether in love or hate, enmity or pleasure. There were only the desperate, hungry kisses, clawing hands and endless pent-up lust.

No grace, no conscious thought, only depraved and primitive need.

Even as he struggled to remove the clothes that kept him from the body he so desired, Marluxia felt his own pants tugged down, the bliss of cold fingers finally upon his aching, hot flesh. He growled and pressed himself against the touch, knowing he wouldn't last much longer at this rate, but refusing to give up without a fight.  
Finally getting the frustrating textiles out of the way he clenched his own hand until Vexen was writhing and whimpering in his grasp, then gasped at the vicious retaliating squeeze.

… Possibly, just possibly playing nice would be a wise move caught in such a very _tangible_ terror-balance.

Then Vexen was pressing against him, hard length rubbing against hard length and he gasped, opened his hand to hold them both, and Vexen's long, thin fingers closed over his hand and they both moved and _gods, gods, gods_ it was warm and cold and so very tight and wonderful and he could take no more.

He gave a hoarse scream that sounded not entirely human, every muscle tensing, and came harder than he could ever remember, would have collapsed was he not securely wedged between the tree and the man before him.  
A tremor shook the other man as he, too, was forced over the edge, thick wet warmth filling their joined hands, and Vexen shakily collapsed against him, warm unsteady puffs of breath against his ear.

He stared emptily over the blond man's shoulder at the beautiful, tranquil clearing, his entire being throbbing with the aftershocks of the intense climax.  
 _Damn_ , that had to be the best sex he had had in ages, and with only hands involved he wasn't even sure whether it really qualified as sex at all. Hm.  
He closed his eyes for a moment, resting his cheek on the other's shoulder, rising and falling with his breathing. He felt utterly spent, yet energized, like a tree in spring with all sap rising, suddenly so very alive. An amazing sensation, and surely Vexen must feel it to, must feel it and understand once and for all how futile it was to pretend otherwise, pretend that it could possibly _be_ otherwise.

He raised a shaking hand and uncharacteristically gently stroked the damp, blond hair, so very soft under his fingers, and Vexen moved, raised his head to give him an unreadable look.  
Slowly the older man straightened and pulled away without ever breaking the eye-contact, his eyes giving nothing away, but he knew, _knew_ beyond doubt that Vexen understood now, finally understood where he belonged.

Vexen looked down and flexed a sticky hand, then sighed in annoyance.  
" Great," he sniffed. " Now I'll have to take another bath."  
And he tugged his clothes decently back into place with his clean hand, turned around and unceremoniously stomped off.

Marluxia stared after him, gracelessly slouched against the tree, dishevelled and spent, and couldn't even find the presence of mind to swear.

 _Damn_ the impossible man. Damn it all!

Then he remembered how the other had moved against him, and couldn't hold back a dark little smile.

 _Very well, then. Turn your back on me all you like, Vexen. But we both know we're not finished, you and I._

The last glimpse of pale blond disappeared into the gloom of the forest and he pushed away from the tree, thoughtfully bringing his stained fingers to his lips.

 _Far from finished._


	35. Chapter 033 – Dish Best Served Cold

Chapter: 033 – Dish Best Served Cold.  
Location: The Mountain Where the Lights Touch the Earth  
Characters: Marluxia, Vexen, Larxene, Axel, Zexion, Lexaeus.  
Rating/Warnings: G  
Summary: Healthy outdoor life is boring. An agile, inquiring mind is sorely tempted to seek distractions. Other people might want to beware. 

**Chapter 033 : TMWtLTtE – Dish Best Served Cold.**

* * *

A few days passed, luckily without any more nightly rains that would have forced them all into much unwelcome proximity. Lexaeus and Zexion got to keep their precious tarp to themselves, even if the rest wisely stayed close to the pair and the added enemies-and-large-stomping-animals detection and protection they offered. The sunshine was warm enough to make the days bearable, there was firewood and fresh water, the air alive with the twitter of birds and plenty of game that the more aggressive members competed in bringing home. The large furry things were noticeably absent. There was even tea to drink, mugs to drink it from and the occasional lump of sugar to put in it.

All in all, Zexion reflected, things were not so bad. Things were actually _working_ , be it in a primitive and low key manner.

Which was exactly the reason why he was bored out of his mind. The monotony and solitude of a quiet life stimulate the creative mind, after all. Or so went the theory. But in reality, he was not as much stimulated as desperately searching for distractions.

Oh, there was tensions and strife in the group, as always. Vexen was his usual haughty self, striding across the clearing with those great robes of his billowing. Axel sat by the fire, idly playing with the embers. They glowed and flamed up under his fingers, making the small pot of water standing over them bubble merrily. It never hurt to be ready for a cup of tea.

Those two were a constant source of disasters, it seemed. Nothing new there. Vexen had always gotten into things over his head, even back in the days, and Axel… Axel was just _Axel_ , no further explanation needed.

As a source of amusement, at least needling Vexen had its merits. But it felt unnecessary, somehow, to break what little peace existed within the group. If one should goad another member for distraction, one could at least take the time to find someone deserving... or more deserving than the rest of them at the moment.

Larxene usually fit the bill, but now she came bounding out of the forest, waving something dead and feathery with a titter and girly twirl. Of course he could complain that they would have duck for dinner for the third day in a row, but that would just be too obvious.

Lexaeus was the lifesaver at these moments, but the Silent Hero lay asleep under the tarp a few feet away. Of course, if Zexion awoke him for company, Lexaeus would not mind, and they would discuss something worthwhile, or play a slow game of chess. At least having to memorize the board made the game relatively interesting. And if all else failed, they could "go look for provisions" in some suitably secluded clearing. But as nice as that would be, Lexaeus needed his sleep. Zexion knew how lightly he rested at night, always only slumbering, keeping guard over them both. It would not be right to deny him his rest now just because Zexion was bored.

Idly, his minds drifted back over the last few dinners. Duck today, yesterday and the day before. That made 43% of the dinners of this world duck, give or take a few parts per mille. 28.57% had been salmon, another 14.28% rabbit and the remaining 14.28% had been something small and furry that had been hard to define after Axel's attack had barbecued it on the spot. It had been rather tasty, though.

Speaking of Axel, he had prepared only 14.28% of the meals served since the last world jump, including the barbecued furry thing. Zexion himself had prepared a staggering 57.14%, but one had to take into consideration that that was with the assistance of Lexaeus and also meant that he got both tasty cooking and less dish duty.

Leaning back, Zexion lost himself into the pleasant haze of numbers neatly lining themselves up inside his head. It was so orderly, so fulfilling, the way deductions and answers followed upon each other in their proper and logical place. Hadn't the same book that spoke about monotony and solitude also said something about pure mathematics and how it was, in its way, the poetry of logical ideas? At least the author had been right about _something_.

…Larxene had provided 28.57% of the dinners at this world, but was still in the lead of the group thanks to her exploits on the first world they had ended up on. Marluxia was gaining on her, though. If any meal was considered to be _F_ , then she would have to bring home _F_ 3 to keep abreast during the coming week, while Marluxia would have to bring home _F_ 6 just to come even with her…

And speaking of Marluxia, here was the bastard, appearing between the boulders and strolling though the camp as though he owned it. He had been more insufferable than usual as of late, Zexion had noted. The ease of this world must have been getting to his head. There was no other reason Zexion could find for his little smirks, the arrogant tosses with his head... though he had to admit that the man was making a larger contribution to the group now than he had before. It actually seemed as though he was making an effort. _As he should, if he has any wits._. It still galled him that he hadn't been around to witness Lexaeus pound some sense into him, but well. If Marluxia ever decided to act up again there would be more chances.

His mind grabbed onto the thread, digging up old facts and comparing them. Marluxia, in statistic terms, had delivered his part of meals. He had even brought in nearly 3000 munny, though the most of that sum had been spent on his new robes. All in all, due to the things he'd lost on the boat, he had been one of the more financially expensive members to keep going. On the other hand, some of the others had not earned any munny at all.

Marluxia had good statistics on bringing back firewood, too, now that Zexion bothered to work out the numbers. And likewise had stood his fair share of guard passes. Strange, how the numbers all told that Marluxia was at least an average member of the group, pulling his load and contributing his part; his innate arrogance just made it all too easy to assume he was too busy commanding people around and freeloading to ever be of any use. But the numbers, now, they told a whole different story… Let's say dishes, for example. How many times had Marluxia done the dishes in the last week…?

Vexen had prepared the duck, hissing at Axel until he moved away and stopped making the fire explode in little unpredictable outbursts every now and then. It tasted decently enough, if a bit bland. Vexen had never really cared for food, considering it something that happened in those unfortunate breaks in research one had to take from time to time. But at least it was neither burnt nor raw, and they still had spices and even a few edible roots that Lexaeus had found yesterday and which were perfectly fine after boiling, just somewhat lacking in flavour.

They lingered around the fire afterwards, everyone doing their best to ignore the greasy stack of plates, mugs and cutlery that was stacked up on the grass. Let that be someone _else's_ problem. Everyone knew that Zexion would nag someone into doing it sooner or later.

Vexen and Larxene got into a shrill, loud argument that ended with the latter sulkily handing over the case of surgical needles, tongs and thread before scuttling off to giggle with Axel. All hard feelings between the two from that rainy night seemed to be forgotten. They seemed to have a rather good-natured competition of who could first fry the other's bangs with either a small spark or a flickering ember.

Vexen had settled down with the case and was sewing up the tears in his robe with small, precise stitches. The white thread shone like a line of sutures over the leather which was, of course, what Vexen had gained his sewing-experience doing. The rest of them just digested dinner, knowing there was nowhere they were supposed to go or nothing they were supposed to do, until they felt like finding some supper or maybe some more wood.

Marluxia was the first one to stir, gracefully rising to his feet and stretching.

"You know, Vexen, that was a rather pleasant meal."

The Chilly Academic did not lower himself to answer, just gave him an unreadable gaze. Marluxia seemed to take that in stride, just smiled and made as to walk off into the forest.

Zexion smiled and launched his attack.

"I think it's your turn to do the dishes, Marluxia."

The man paused. "I was on my way to get some more wood. Surely it can't be my turn." He started to walk off again, but Zexion cut him short.

"You are mistaken. I have been doing some thinking today. You know, I can't seem to remember you doing the dishes at all."

The others had started to take notice by now, Vexen lowering the mended folds of his robe into his lap and the other Neophytes looking up from their little game. Good. The trap was closing. Zexion hid a smirk before continuing.

"I have done the dishes. Lexaeus has, and Vexen and Larxene. Even Axel. In fact, Axel has been truly dedicated…- " A snort from the fire elemental interrupted him briefly, "- but not you, Marluxia. Rather regrettable, isn't it? We should share our tasks evenly."

The other shrugged elegantly. "I have been doing my part of the work. So what if I happened to miss out on one specific task? Surely someone else can do the dishes if I get the firewood."

Zexion smiled an apologetic smile. "The dishes are not really a favourite, I'm afraid. What do you say, Axel? Feeling up to some more scrubbing?"

"Hell no. Let flowerboy here freeze his hands off in the river and I'll get the logs," the redhead answered with a smirk.

"There you have it, Marluxia. Axel will bring home firewood and you will do the dishes. Nice and fair."

Anger sparked in Marluxia's eyes. "I don't _do_ dishes! That is servants' work!"

Silence fell over the clearing, with everyone staring at Number Eleven. Vexen's eyes had turned hard and icy, and Zexion gloated inside. _Trapped_.

"Servants' work?" Larxene's voice was sharp.

" Gee, Marluxia, it's nice to know your true feelings," Axel said, idly snapping a small, _hot_ flame alive between his fingers.

Marluxia actually seemed to flounder for a moment, before the lordly mask slipped back into place.

"I didn't mean-"

"Oh, but I think you did," Zexion purred. "Feeling it's below you? Better left to your subordinates? Marluxia, I really thought you had learned better by now."  
The other's gaze flickered to Lexaeus for just the fraction of a second, and Zexion could feel the well-veiled fear in it. _Perfect_.

Vexen sniffed, his gaze so full of venom and contempt it was all but tangible. "You are not our lord anymore. One would have thought you would have realized."

"I have!" Marluxia hissed between clenched teeth. "This is ludicrous! You are blowing this up beyond all proportion!"'

"There's an easy solution," Lexaeus said, ever the voice of reason. "Do the dishes, Marluxia."

If the man had accepted the order there and then, maybe the matter would have dropped. Maybe the others would have let him off the hook with no more than some jeering and a tendency to remind him of his omega status. But Marluxia made the fatal error to hesitate, to look like he would contest Lexaeus' words.

"I…"

Zexion shook his head sadly. "Distressing, to see how little you learn. I propose a vote. How many think Marluxia should do the dishes?"

"I have a better one yet," Axel said. "How about letting Marluxia do the dishes period?"

Marluxia paled. "You can not do this!"

"We can't?" Vexen said. "It would be a much-needed lesson in humility, I think."

"Excellent idea. Everyone in favour for putting Marluxia on permanent dish-duty, raise your hand."

Five hands were raised, and Marluxia spluttered. "This is uncalled for!"

"Rather the opposite."

"I count five for and one half against," Lexaeus said, an unusually happy undertone in his hoarse voice. "The motion thus carried."

Marluxia looked like he would protest, then swallowed his words and snatched up the dirty pile of offending kitchenware and stiffly stalked off towards the river.

The others looked after him, then at each other, and with broad leers, rose to follow him.

Marluxia turned on them with a snarl. "What do you think you are doing?!"

"Oh, just helping out," Larxene replied with her large eyes innocently sparkling. "Since you have so little experience and all."

"I can do the dishes on my own!"

"Just making sure Marluxia, just making sure."

The clear water was icy cold against Marluxia's hands, and he fought to keep the rage from showing in his face as he knelt on the bank.

"You missed a spot there, pal."

Axel would _pay_ for this, he vowed, along with the rest of the jeering bastards lounging around him among the rocks. Pay dearly for the way they oh-so very willingly and gleefully humiliated him. The cretins certainly had banded together for this easily enough, considering how they were usually at each others' throats day and night!

The thick grease clung to the plates, and no amount of scrubbing in the cold water seemed to get it off. The small pine branches that Zexion had helpfully handed him had almost worn down by now, and his hands were getting uncomfortably red and numb.

"You know, at least he's working with enthusiasm. He'll scrub a hole in that plate soon enough." The whisper was loud enough to easily reach his ear, and he ground his teeth together so hard he could hear it.

Vexen relaxed comfortably on top of a large stone, smiling at the other's jests and occasionally weighting in with a comment of his own. Marluxia looked _good_ on his knees, he noted not for the first time. And while hypothermia had been more aesthetically pleasing, there was something about the raw red fingers, the glaring eyes, and the cheeks blushing with fury and shame that was also very appealing. Marluxia humiliated was attractive. And every new splatter of mud on his silken robes, every taunt from his audience only served to make him more so.

Even if the blush clashed horribly with his hair.

"Looks like he'll need help with this for a long, long time," Lexaeus noted. "Help, good advice and training. Lots of training."

Marluxia jerked his head up and glared at him before taking a deep breath and turning back to inefficiently rub at the plate.

"Try some sand," Zexion suggested. Marluxia eyed him suspiciously.

"You want me to smear mud on your plate?"

"It will get rid of the grease. Believe me. I have no intention of sitting on this rock until the water has become warm enough for you to get it properly clean with that twig."

"Aww, Zexion. You're robbing us of our fun," Larxene pouted.

The sand actually _did_ help, taking the horrible fat with it. But he still had to stick his hands into the near-freezing water, and the pan had some sort of burnt crust on the bottom that would only come off if he scrubbed hard enough to make his arms ache.  
It was not _fair_. He was above this!

But the others showed no inclination of giving up their fun. All previous animosity seemed forgotten presented with such an appropriate common target for their jabs. And damn them all, there was nothing he could do at the moment but shut up and accept it.

Oh, he could dream of revenge and vengeance for some later date, but what really stung was the fact that he _needed_ the safety of the group. No matter the price. Not even this humiliation was enough to make him leave, and _that_ realization hurt more than anything the others said.

That, and the fact that they would even consider shoving this task upon a man of his station. The mighty falls hard, indeed.

At least he was almost done by now. His fingers were so stiff from the cold that he fumbled clumsily with the forks, almost dropping them into the river. Someone sniggered behind him.

"Feeling like taking a swim as well?"

Clenching his jaw, he managed not to lose any of the offending cutleries into the water. Patience, that was the key. Ignore the fools around you.

"Look, his nose is starting to match his hair…"

"You must be colour blind. It's not matching, red and pink _never_ match."

"Since when are you a colour expert, Zexion?"

"I must say I agree with Number Six. For once."

"Why, thank you Vexen…"

There was no loyalty in this world, Marluxia grumbled to himself. None at all whatsoever.

Finally, the last spoon joined the others on the grass and he stumbled to his feet, shaking the water from his hands and glaring a challenge for _anyone_ to claim that something wasn't quite clean enough. Lexaeus had made him redo this plate thrice.

Axel patted his shoulder in mock comradeship. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it? And just imagine how good you will get at it over time, buddy!"

With a snarl, he tore his shoulder loose of the other's grip and stalked away from the laughing rabble. He wanted to be _alone_.

Zexion chuckled quietly to himself as he gathered up his and Lexaeus' things from the bank. Marluxia had stormed off in such a huff he had forgotten his own plate and mug; Zexion idly toyed with the idea to grease them back up again, but decided against it. There would be plenty of opportunities to see Marluxia sweat in the future even without trying.

The others were also moving back towards camp, with an unusual amount of smiles and bounce in the steps. This had gone even better than planned; not only had it been hugely amusing, but it had also provided the group with some much-needed common ground. Well, the group sans Marluxia, but that was a small price to pay. The mood was brighter than it had been for a long time. And no one would ever refuse to complete any task Zexion set before them again, ever.

And all that was only a positive side effect of getting Marluxia down where he deserved to be. With this humiliation in fresh memory, hopefully Number Eleven would think twice before flaunting any arrogant airs in the future. One could hope.

Lexaeus was actually smiling as he joined Zexion on the walk.

"I take it you enjoyed the show?"

A small smile was all the answer he got, but he could feel Lexaeus rather obvious approval.

"It was for his own good, after all. Don't you agree?"

That actually made his lover laugh, a pleasant rumbling sound.

"Oh, I agree wholeheartedly. I take it you got bored?"

He waved his hand nonchalantly. "Just passing the time. One has to kill time somehow."  
"I can think of a few things to try."

He cast a quick glance at his lover and smirked. Why not? It was a good day today.


	36. Chapter 034 – Trials and Pleasures (XXX)

Chapter: 034 – Trials and Pleasures.  
Location: The Mountain Where The Lights Touch the Earth  
Characters: Vexen, Larxene, Zexion, Axel, Marluxia, Lexaeus.  
Rating/Warnings: NC-17. Violency stuff and gayporn galore. Weee!  
Summary: Restless boredom is slowly gnawing at both individual minds and group companionship. There are a number of different ways to deal, though, some more inventive than others.  
Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. KH can be difficult sometimes, you know how it is. 

**Chapter 034 : TMWtLTtE – Trials And Pleasures. (XXX)**

* * *

It was yet another perfectly fine day. There had been so much fish for breakfast no-one had been able to finish their share, the weather was gorgeous, and the six Nobodies were slowly going insane with boredom.

Too much time to think could be dangerous, Vexen concluded. While running from one disaster or another, survival instinct took over and left little time for deeper rational thought – he'd make a note of how basic instincts still seemed to work just fine in Nobodies faced with extreme situations if he'd had a notebook on him; make that a mental note to get a proper notebook at next stop in civilization instead. But with peace came boredom, and with boredom came focused, analysing conscious thought.  
And such thoughts were far from pleasant.

Almost one and a half months had passed since the fall of Oblivion, if his counting was correct – make that a notebook with a proper calendar – and in all that time they hadn't really _accomplished_ anything.

Granted, they were still alive, which probably counted for something, but the basic premise remained unchanged; they were blindly on the run. Six creatures by default responding poorly to instability and change, having to not only briefly pass through a wide variety of worlds, but now constantly and actively adjusting enough to blend in.  
Being on the run, having to often change and adjust - not to mention the odd sensations of primal fear and survival-drive curiously blazing through even heartless indifference – it all boiled down to a quiet, constant stress fraying at the edges of their beings.

And as though that was not enough, he was half beginning to suspect that not only primal instincts such as fear were affected by the roles they were often forced to play out, but hypothetically a wider range of constructed emotions-…

A shrill, heartbreaking scream echoed through the campsite, jerking him efficiently from his thoughts, and along with the other lounging Nobodies he leapt to his feet, tense.  
What met his eyes was neither telltale Organization-portals nor fuzzy, tusked beasts, however, but Larxene sporting her very best actress pose. One dainty hand was hard pressed against her empty chest and the other pointing a quivering finger at the former Number Six, who sat crouched over his open book, looking as bewildered and shaken by the sudden outburst as the rest of them.

Waiting until she was certain she had her audience's full attention, Larxene drew a shaking, almost sobbing breath.  
" Betrayal!" she whimpered, moving her hand from her nonexistent heart to cover her tearing eyes. " Betrayal and backstabbing! He proposed to _attack_ me!"

One had to hand it to the girl; she really was an amazing actress, playing the frightened, heartbroken little girl to perfection. To his left Axel was grinning openly at the show and further away Marluxia had raised his eyebrows in curiosity.

" What the hell are you talking about," Zexion snarled, glaring at her fingertip as though it could go off at any time.

She looked up and there was the slightest cruel tint to her sweet expression as she lowered her accusing finger to the young man's lap – a gesture that didn't seem to comfort him at all.

" Lexaeus said it only a few days ago," she crooned triumphantly. " We do _not_ draw weapons on our fellow companions, under _any_ circumstances. And _that_ , Zexion dearest, is your weapon, isn't it?"  
" I've seen him in the bath. It's not very impressive," Axel mused.  
" I do believe she is referring to his book," Vexen patiently interjected. " Which is indeed Zexion's weapon of choice. She actually has a point."

Zexion glared at the crowd.  
" This is absurd. Completely absurd. I only conjured it to read!"  
Larxene waved a reproaching finger.  
" _Any_ circumstances, love. Lexaeus was very definite. In fact, he broke my wrist for emphasis, remember? Lex, would you please break Zexion's wrist for me?"

 _Interesting_ , Vexen idly mused as he looked from Larxene's vengeful little form to the suddenly frowning earth-elemental.

Zexion stood, balling his fists, his Lexicon dissolving into darkness.  
" Don't be ridiculous, you little witch," he hissed, goaded into rare anger as his partner was dragged into the conflict. " Don't think you can out-scheme _me_. Or do you want to end up on dish-duty, too?"

Larxene's eyes flashed with mirth and she put her fingers to her lips with a girlish little giggle.  
" Why, _Zexion_ , that sounded an awful lot like Marluxia-talk! You don't think _you're_ the one pulling all our strings, do you? Or are you and dear Lex making up rules that only apply to the rest of us now?"

Zexion looked furious, but several of the onlookers had very thoughtful faces at this point and he managed to collect himself enough to regain his smooth composure.

" Very well," he finally conceded, " You have made your point known and it will be taken into due consideration. Perhaps we _should_ have a more nuanced discussion about any rules applied to the group."

" Mm-hm," she smiled. " And now we get to break your arm."  
" There will be no breaking of arms," Lexaeus rumbled as he moved to stand behind Zexion, giving the girl a warning look.  
" Well, actually…" Axel said, rubbing his chin between thumb and forefinger.  
" Larxene is right," Marluxia said, a dead serious undertone to his rich voice. " We can not have one set of rules for you two and another for the rest of us."  
" After all, Zexion," Larxene chirped, " We all voted to have potions available at all times, so you should be able to heal right back up. Only a matter of principle, you see?"

 _Second note_ , Vexen thought to himself, _never seriously antagonize Larxene if it can at all be avoided._  
The horrible girl could be much too clever when she put her mind to it, and was obviously capable of carrying a grudge like the best of them.

Zexion was actually beginning to look a shade pale.  
" Look, listen, we _can't_ go around fighting within the group. We wouldn't last five minutes!"  
" Do you remember him saying that when Lexaeus hurt Larxene?" Axel innocently asked Marluxia. The pink-haired man was staring at the earth elemental with a strange intensity to his eyes.  
" No, no I do not, " he said. " In fact I've known Lexaeus to act the judge before. Since he is so eager to maintain justice and discipline within the group, I'm sure he would be most willing to extract proper punishment in this case as well."

 _There's a trick to it,_ Vexen recognized as Zexion began to sputter and protest. _We all hate each other, and so as soon as any one individual is singled out, it's horrifyingly easy to band everyone else together against them. Some cases more deserving than others, of course._

" You are _not_ in majority!" Zexion was howling at Larxene, then jumped as a grinning Axel carefully stepped on a fallen twig with a sharp, cracking sound. Lexaeus put a calming hand on his shoulder but he furiously shrugged it off.

" Three and a half to two," she smiled. " Work it out yourself, math-boy."

The spoken numbers seemed to finally make them notice his silence, and suddenly five pairs of eyes were turned to him for confirmation. He shrugged slightly to buy time.

" Vexen," Zexion hissed. " You can't _possibly_ side with them!"

Oh, it was tempting, so very tempting. Zexion had always, _always_ sported that intolerable smug attitude, even long ago when he was still Ienzo, precious young prodigy, Master Ansem's little wonder-child who'd soon made a habit out of loudly and condescendingly pointing out his elders' every little mistake and miscalculation.  
A neatly broken wrist seemed like a perfect, albeit belated way of putting him back in his place.

" I don't know," he drawled, thoughtfully crossing his arms, very much enjoying his sudden position of power. " The Neophytes have a point. If the group is to be consequent in its response to such transgressions, some sort of punishment would be in proper order."

Lexaeus gave him a downright threatening glare - _well, who are you to judge me, where were_ you _when I burned?_ – and Larxene laughed out loud.  
" Why, dearest 'brother', I knew I could count on you to defend my honour!" she grinned. The little bitch.

Axel happily cracked his knuckles.  
" So who gets to do the breaking?"

Zexion's eyes narrowed, and suddenly he looked nothing like the young boy he might resemble, but the grown and too-clever by half man he actually was.  
" Vexen," he growled. " You had better think _very_ carefully about whose side you are on. I do know a thing or two about you, after all, that I am quite certain you wouldn't want me to let slip."

He scoffed and narrowed his own eyes in turn.  
" Is that so? I happen to know a thing or two about you as well, Zexion. Don't make a habit of trying to threaten me. I owe you only the same loyalty you have shown me – that is to say, none."

The others followed the exchange, wide-eyed and delighted with the tension between the once so seemingly united Elders.

" Yeah?" Axel made an encouraging gesture. " So how goes the vote, Vex? Breaky or no breaky?"

Suddenly disgusted with their scavenger-like eagerness he sniffed and gestured vaguely.

" Probably punishment well deserved, but we can't keep wasting potions on pointless internal disputes, or we'll be out when we really need them."  
He swept his gaze over the pettily excited group and suddenly felt very old, the only sensible grown man in a crowd of yelling, hair-pulling little boys and girls.

" Honestly. You all bicker like children, sometimes," he sighed.

And he turned and left.

In the end there had been no breaking of wrists, much to Axel's disappointment.  
The ruffle-haired little creep had managed to push the point that Vexen's vague answer should be interpreted as a vote to his and Lexaeus' favour, and no-one had really felt like discussing the matter further once mountain-man started flexing his muscles and cracking his knuckles.

Democracy could be a beautiful thing, though. Even Vexen had proven a possible ally; along with Larxene he might be persuaded to help vote through a few nice changes around the place.  
Like, dunno, having Zexion down there with Marluxia on dish-duty and demanding Lexaeus be put on a leash or something.

Making friends, that was what it was all about. Favours and favours in return. And dang if he and Vexen weren't good friends already! It probably wouldn't take many burns at _all_ to get the nice old man to place the proper votes.  
Lovely thing, friendship.

Right now, however, he was on another mission. As the group broke up after the morning's little show, _someone_ had been in such a hurry that all the dirty dishes had been left behind.  
He would know; he'd carefully left some juicy scraps smeared across his plate and placed it near the ants' nest he'd found the day before to make the result a suitable challenge for someone like a master Assassin.  
Poor Marluxia must have had a lot on his mind to forget about his chores like that, though, and so Axel had taken it upon himself to go remind the preoccupied man.  
Just another helpful gesture of friendship.

Damn if he wasn't the very friendliest guy in the group!

Burying his hands in his pockets and whistling a little horribly out-of-tune melody Axel walked on through the forest.

Where he sat perched on the soft moss crowning a huge boulder under the dusky canopy, Marluxia would have to admit to himself that he was bitter.

Zexion had escaped just punishment yet again, the little worm, and there hadn't even been a bathing naked Vexen in the lily pond to make the day better.  
And those were just this morning's misadventures.

What was worse, quite a bit worse, was the humiliation of being forced to scrub the others' plates and mugs clean several times a day, still attracting a faithful jeering audience every time. His hands looked horrible by now; the red stiffness would never quite fade from his joints and knuckles, and the skin and nails had begun cracking from so often being exposed to the freezing water.

He should not have to suffer this.

He should leave, strike back, beat each and every one of them into submission rather than having to suffer this, and yet…  
He bit his lower lip and frowned.

And yet he hadn't. Yet he wouldn't.

As divided as the group might be, both his own trial and this morning's incident had proven that the others _were_ capable of standing united when necessary. And while he might be able to take several of them out in a straightforward fight, five to one might be just a bit too much even for him to handle.

Leaving, then. He certainly didn't need the others to survive. He'd been out in the worlds on his own before, he was a warrior, a survivor, would make it just fine without the burden of the others weighing him down.  
At least up until the point where he ran into one or more of their mutual enemies.  
Damn it all.

Because the Keybearer _was_ his match and superior in battle, as he had so painfully found out in the past. And the Organization… Better not even think of the Organization, really.  
And there were others; Riku, the mouse-king, the Keybearer's beastly companions, that fallen king the Elders were all so very afraid of…  
If a Nobody was to run into those enemies on his own, he probably would wish he hadn't been quite so eager to leave the relative protection of the group, after all.  
Accursed dishes aside.

That, and that leaving the group now also meant leaving-…

" Hey! There you are, pink-head! I've been looking for you."

He felt a shudder of actual revulsion trickle down his spine as the loud voice cut through his contemplation, and reluctantly looked down at the black-and-red figure grinning up at him from the mossy forest floor.

So much for relishing in the tranquillity of the forest for a moment of blissful respite. It wasn't that he was hiding in any way, certainly not, but lately he had developed a steadily increasing desire for solitude and peace, far away from the others. Them and their filthy dishes.  
Curse them.

He shot Axel a cool, aloof glare down his nose, hoping against better judgment the idiot would take the hint and go away. As expected it had no effect whatsoever.

" See, I know you probably have a lot on your mind and all; lots of slime and rot in there, right? So I figured, hey, it's not too strange the poor guy's forgotten it's his turn to do the dishes. Even though, you know, it's _always_ your turn to do the dishes. I just figured I'd be a buddy and remind you. Heh heh."

Maybe if he aimed it right he could kick a few smaller rocks down on Axel's head? Worth a try. They rolled off to the side, however, completely missing their intended target.

" Go away, Axel," he spat out, every syllable clear and cold. Not even the voice of authority had any effect on the thug, however.

" Sure. Yeah. Any time at all. Only it's almost time for lunch and my plate is a _mess_ , you wouldn't _believe_ how icky it is. Need to get it clean before I can use it again. So if you'd be so kind?"

He actually felt his eye twitch slightly.  
That a dog like Axel was in any position whatsoever to order _him_ about, smirking, mocking him…

Axel suddenly yelped and jumped, but too late; the mosses, stalks and vines of the forest floor were moving under his feet, writhing like serpents in a snake pit, and he almost lost his balance, just barely saving himself onto a smaller boulder.

When he looked up again there was a savage madness to his grin, a shine to his eyes that hadn't been there before, and he laughed quietly.  
" Think so?"

Suddenly the moss Marluxia sat on felt very hot indeed; the only warning he got to fling himself away from the rock before his perch exploded into flame.

He landed soundlessly, gracefully as a cat, and spun to face the bastard.

" Ah, ah!" Axel chanted and sent him skipping backwards with fire bursting from every footstep as he raised his hands to summon his scythe. " No drawing weapons, or Lexaeus will break your fingers off!"

And he laughed again. With a snarl Marluxia reached out to a convenient and above all _thorny_ raspberry vine by Axel's perch, ensnaring him and finally tugging him off balance and into the writhing mass of plants.

Burning them away one by one the fool _still_ had the audacity to laugh.  
" Doesn't change a thing, pal. You'll still have to do the dishes, you know."

" Maybe there'll be one less set to worry about after today," he responded between clenched teeth. Oh, he'd wanted to do this for a long, long time.

" But for the love of-..! I swear, you're all worse than unruly children!"

A third, all too familiar voice cut through the smoky clearing.  
Distracted for a moment he failed to pay proper attention to his opponent and suddenly found his feet virtually on fire; howling, he quite gracelessly hopped several steps back to escape the flames licking at his boots.

" Axel!" Vexen's voice cracked like iced nails down a very screechy blackboard. " Stop it this instant! And you, too, Marluxia! By all powers of Darkness, I've dissected rabid _guinea pigs_ better behaved than you people."

Axel managed to disentangle himself from the scorched vegetation and got to his feet, vainly trying to brush soot and sticky sap off his robes.

" He started it," he whined in a sing-song voice no doubt intended to further infuriate the scientist. For once Vexen didn't seem interested in petty argumentation, however.  
" And I stopped it," he said. " Now get out of here. Go gather firewood if you're so eager to find things to burn. _Now_."

Axel made a face, but seemed to accept himself temporarily outnumbered.  
" Fine, fine. But hey, Marluxia, you think you can wash my coat when you're taking on those dishes? You got it all dirty."

He couldn't hold back a snarl and clenched his hands hard enough to feel his nails bite into soft flesh. Oh, Axel would pay and pay and _pay_ for these insults…

" And what are _you_ looking at!" he yelled at Vexen as the redhead shuffled out of sight. The response surprised him, though; rather than acting offended Vexen only raised his eyebrows slightly – and then he laughed. A cruel but genuinely amused laugh, and somehow that was the worst insult of all.

" Poor Marluxia," Vexen said, still smiling coolly. " It isn't so much fun being on the receiving end, is it?"

" What do you mean," he growled, his hands still clenched hard enough to hurt.  
Rather than turning away Vexen stepped _closer_ , which was all wrong, and crossed his arms in that infuriatingly superior manner of his.

" Humiliated. Toyed with. Driven to fury and still not taken seriously. Not even when you try to strike back. And you want to leave, want it bad enough that you can taste it, and yet you just can't…"

He realized he was staring and quickly turned his surprised look to a frown.

" I don't know what you're talking about."

And suddenly Vexen had come even closer, close enough to invade his personal space, and he could _feel_ the man's presence, his scent, _breathe_ him…

" No..?" Vexen asked, and those green eyes caught and held his.  
Suddenly lust was screaming through him, desire to reach out and touch, taste, jerk that tempting body closer. His entire being was humming with it, clashing painfully with his anger and humiliation, leaving him bewildered, yearning, ravenous, yet frozen in place.

" That," Vexen whispered, so close his moving lips almost, _almost_ grazed his own, "is what I'm talking about."

And then he stepped back, gave his cheek a patronizing little pat.

" Think about it. You're a clever boy. I'm sure you'll work it out."

And with a sweep of his billowing robes he turned to leave.

" Wait!"

He wasn't even aware he had called out until Vexen halted and shot him a blank look over his shoulder. Finally anger overrode his confusion and humiliation, broke the paralysis and gave him back some clarity of mind.

" You're leaving? Just like that?"

Vexen shrugged haughtily.

" Isn't that what you wanted?"  
" No!"

Granted, it _was_ what he'd wanted, but that was several crucial seconds ago, before he'd felt that tantalizing presence, breathed the scent of snow.  
Brushing confusion and weakness aside with anger and self-assurance he stomped across the scorched mosses towards the taller man, refusing to be goaded along only to be cast aside.

" Don't think you can toy with me, Vexen," he hissed, reaching out to grab a sweeping sleeve, to claim ownership, make sure the flighty creature wouldn't sweep away out of reach again.

Vexen's eyes were unreadable.

" Am I toying with you, Marluxia? It must all be in your mind. I was merely making a few observations based on your irrational behaviour."

He bared his teeth, frustrated. Oh, Vexen wanted this as much as he did, of that he was sure, but the man had to make it so _difficult_ , complicating everything beyond all reason.  
Tired of games he yanked on the sleeve in his grasp, only to let it go with a yelp as ice crystals formed on his already frostbitten fingers.

" Still not getting it," Vexen observed, and he wanted to scream with fury and frustration, forcibly resisting the urge to suck on his smarting fingers.  
" What are you playing at!" he almost screamed. " What do you _want_ from me, damn you!"

The scientist sighed, absently reaching out to trace an embroidered hem along the collar of his silky oriental robes.

" A recognition of ironically reversed positions you are obviously too thick to make. I suppose I overestimated your intellect. Whatever poor excuse for one you possess."

He stared.

" You're joking. You are actually analysing me like some contrived experiment, you twisted bastard."

" Oh, but Marluxia, I always have. You've simply become a more interesting specimen exposed to all the new variables out here."

A pause, the ghostlike touch of that long-fingered hand suddenly removed from his chest. He ached for it to return.

" Would you rather I _stopped_ analysing you, Marluxia..?"

He hated how the sound of his name from those cold lips could have such a devastating effect on him; it shouldn't, really shouldn't, that had never been part of the plan, and yet it sent shivers up and down his spine every time it washed over him.

Once again pride and desire crashed together, fighting for supremacy.

Oh, he understood all too well what Vexen was talking about; the irony certainly wasn't lost on him, but now was not the time for such thoughts, not at all.  
Pride lost, miserably, and that, too was ironic. Apparently pride always did, no matter whose.

" No," he finally conceded, gracefully reaching out to guide Vexen's gloved hand back to his chest.

Poor, poor Marluxia, losing his lordly position and composure bit by painful bit, Vexen mused as his tingling hand was pressed once again to the other's firm body.

Humiliated, brought down, driven to furious frustrated anger and yet forced by circumstances beyond his control to stay put, perform his assigned chores and try not to let his aggravation shine through before his tormentors…

How could he, Vexen, do anything but laugh? The irony was just perfect, much too perfect.

Perfect like the shape and taste of velvet lips against his own, like silken hair scented with roses, like the annoying way in which the shapes of their struggling bodies fitted so very well together.

Marluxia certainly must be desperate for carnal company since his bitch abandoned him, the way it took almost nothing at all for even him to arouse the usually so composed man. Desperate indeed.

Not that he minded much.

It wasn't long before sweeping robes of silk and leather fell away, and he reluctantly had to admit Marluxia's body was far more attractive than any man had any right to be. The bastard was an addiction, and by now he was not quite sure he would have wanted to quit him even had he been able to.

He captured a chapped, reddened hand between his own black gloves, turned and admired it before bringing it to his lips.  
" You are quite charming damaged, Marluxia" he pointed out. " It becomes you."  
Marluxia snarled and clenched his captured hand in anger, but didn't pull away.  
" Too much talking, Vexen. Always too much talking with you. Haven't you learned what your lips are for yet?"  
He laughed quietly at the delightful bitterness beneath the surface – perhaps the piece of filth had been onto something after all; playing with a bitter and disgraced quarry _was_ entertaining – but relented and let himself be pulled closer for another vicious kiss.

There were hands pulling at his hair, ripping off his gloves, burning smooth skin under his hands, those devilish just slightly too rough teeth pulling at his ear and then a most enticing moan as his freed fingers slid lower, past obscuring textiles, brushing against the man's throbbing arousal.

" Damn it, Vexen," Marluxia gasped, clinging to him, his expression an odd mix of anger and desperation. " Don't _do_ that. I want more than your hands this time."  
He raised his eyebrows, amused despite himself.  
" But poor dearest Marluxia, whatever has happened to your fabled self-discipline?"  
Teeth bit down on his ear _hard_ and he snarled and pulled away; that one had almost drawn blood. Ripping the man's pants open seemed like proper retribution, along with more of those teasing touches, alternating between hot and bitter cold.

" Damn you," Marluxia repeated and pushed him back, clawing at his clothes in return.

Desperate indeed – but all higher powers be damned, it was sweet and glorious, those firm hands all over him, the warmth of the body pressed hard against his own and how could he ever have loathed the sensation of that velvet-smooth skin rubbing against his?

" Turn around, " Marluxia impatiently breathed into his ear. " I need you, now."

Right. Because Marluxia was a promiscuous arrogant bastard demanding everything be done his way. That was it.

He stepped back, capturing the wrists of those roving hands in a steady grip and gave the younger man his most unimpressed glare.

" And what in all worlds makes you just assume _I_ would bend over for _you_?"

The blank look on the Assassin's face would almost have been humorous in its confounded naivety, the utter shock at being contradicted and denied. Then the moment was gone and fury lit up the blue eyes, rosy lips drawn back to bare teeth. Marluxia jerked his hands free and snarled.

" I warned you, Vexen, don't try to toy with me. One way or another, you _will_ finish what you started."

He scoffed contemptuously.

" I never said I wouldn't. But you've been spending too much time with your dirty whore if a convenient hole is all you are looking for in a bed-mate."

Marluxia was staring at him again, but this time his after all existent intellect actually seemed to make the connection without further clues, and he blinked.

" What, you expect _me_ to..?"

" Not interested? Then I have no more time to waste on you."

Fastidiously he began pulling his clothes back in place, admittedly rather hoping Marluxia would stop him. His pants had _not_ been so constricting ten minutes ago.

Marluxia was still staring at him, frozen in confusion, anger and indecision. Then he made a sharp, frustrated gesture.

" Oh, _damn_ you!" he yelled, closing the distance between them again, forcing Vexen's hands away from the buttons he had been working on. " _Why_ do you have to make everything so _difficult_!?"

And he would have happily explained that at quite some length had not his mouth been ravenously invaded, his clothes torn away again, his own hands moving on their own accord to slide through pink hair, pulling the intolerable Assassin closer still.

Entangled they fell together, rolling onto the soft moss, the forest floor beneath them suddenly and quite conveniently covering over with thick drifts of rose-petals, the sickly sweet scent overpowering.  
Tacky, yet admittedly more comfortable than pine needles.

" Only this once," Marluxia finally panted as they broke apart, lying flat on his back, strong hands tugging on Vexen's hair to pull him down. " Next time it's my turn."

He snorted even as he burrowed his face into the soft, feathery hair, his hands impatiently folding away any last trace of cloth between them.

" What makes you think there will be a next time?"

Growling the Assassin pressed up against him as Vexen slid inside with movements kept painstakingly slow not to hurt either of them too much due to lack of proper lubrication.

" What makes you possibly believe there won't be?" Marluxia murmured dangerously, and the glow in his eyes left no doubt whatsoever that he intended to claim his hard-won prize sooner rather than later.

And then with a final push he was fully sheathed and Marluxia threw his head back with the oddest whimpering sound, desperately drawing him close and squeezing his body between strong legs hard enough to hurt.  
Rough hands slid across his back, worn-down nails still sharp enough to leave burning red welts behind and he hissed, biting down on a tempting lip in return.

It had been quite a while since he had known Marluxia like this; his warmth, the firmness of his arching body below, smooth velvet inside and out, and he closed his eyes and focused on breathing, closer to the edge than he had thought.

He tried to check his movements, keeping his thrusts shallow and slow, but Marluxia gave a beastly growl, seemingly as frustrated as himself, and soon he threw care to the wind and slammed into the perfect body writhing beneath him deep and hard, resulting embarrassing abrasions be damned.

Despite his best efforts, Marluxia made the most interesting little sounds when he was on the receiving end; just watching his deep blue eyes flutter shut and his lips unconsciously part slightly just _begging_ for brutal, asphyxiating kisses was enough to drive anyone mad with primitive lust.

Then strong arms reached out for him, holding him so close that for a single moment they moved as one being, already fraying boundaries of self blurred and unimportant, and then there was only blazing perfection, flashing by like lightning, impossible to catch, impossible to hold down or analyse.

One single moment of perfection, over all too soon.

He muffled his outcry against Marluxia's shoulder, shuddering, vaguely aware that any intimate abrasions would be matched with neat bruises where the Assassin's shaking fingers had dug hard into his hips and back; knew he had left his fair share on the other's pale skin as well.  
Perfection was never for free, bruises a small price to pay.

It was those moments, he thought tiredly as he struggled to catch his breath, again wishing for a proper notebook, those inexplicable moments of brilliance, of _almost_ -being that assured him some part of their innermost beings still existed, that there was still _something_ there beyond just an empty shell living on by force of habit.

He hadn't believed that before Marluxia.  
Perhaps the idiot was good for something, after all.

Odd.

He was sweaty, sticky and could barely breathe because of the soft blond hair fanning across his face; he had been humiliated across the entire scale of shame more times than he could even count during the past half hour, and yet, right now, he actually felt rather good.

Very good, in fact.

Breathing really was getting difficult, but he kept still, knowing that if he moved then Vexen would move, and the scientist's solid form draped across him was oddly comfortable, especially considering all the sharp bony angles on the man.

After a few more moments of pleasant afterglow Vexen muttered something unintelligible and rolled off him.

" What?" he asked, mostly to keep the other still long enough to admire how he was virtually glowing, so wonderfully delicately pale against the deep crimson and dark green of the rose petals and moss they rested on.

" I _said_ , this is all _horribly_ impractical."  
Already the man was propped on one elbow, looking around for his clothes.

Marluxia gave a soft amused bark of laughter.

" Vexen, my very dearest pessimist, being on the run for our lives is impractical. Having betrayed the Organization each in our own ways is impractical. One could argue that releasing Darkness upon the worlds and losing our hearts was _very_ impractical. On that grand scale of impracticality, a little of _this_ -" a sweeping gesture, "- doesn't even merit counting."

Green eyes locked onto his for a few silent seconds, then the man shrugged.

" Perhaps a valid point. That doesn't mean I intend to make it a habit. You are still a treacherous, filthy piece of trash with so much making up to do a lifetime wouldn't be enough. Now, where did you throw my coat?"

 _If times like these is what he refers to as 'making up'_ , Marluxia concluded while watching the man stalk around the glade, retrieving his articles of clothing from the surrounding vegetation, _I wouldn't much mind spending a lifetime doing it_.

Axel sat cross-legged and poked at his magnificently ant-infested plate with a long stick.  
Damn, Vexen must have been angry.  
The brusque telling-off he had received had been bad enough, but it had been over half an hour, and there was still no trace of Marluxia.

Maybe Vexen'd killed him or something. Crazy old man.

Well, whatever he'd done to Marluxia it was certainly well deserved. Served the fruity bastard damned right.

It'd just be a damned shame if they had to go back to doing their own dishes.  
Stupid ants.


	37. Chapter 035- Stuff out of Rocks

Chapter: 035- Stuff out of Rocks.  
Location: The Mountain Where The Lights Touch the Earth  
Characters: Vexen, Larxene, Zexion, Axel, Marluxia, Lexaeus.  
Rating/Warnings: PG. Mild swearing, the usual violent thoughts from everyone.  
Summary: This just aren't getting any better for anyone here in the forest, and it's starting to wear on everyone's nerves.  
Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, Grad School, you know, eating the soul, eating the life, yadda, yadda, yadda. 

**Chapter 035 : The Mountain Where the Lights Touch the Earth – Stuff out of Rocks.**

* * *

Axel was really starting to get tired of the woods. Sure, they were nice to look at, and the little birdies flying around and singing was nice when it was sunny and warm (which was rare) and the air was nice and clean…

But it was cold. And wet. And he hated the stupid little birds.

He raked a hand through his hair. _Goddamn. I didn't think everything would be so annoying by this point._ Everything and everyone, really. Zexion had, at least, quieted down somewhat from Larxene's last little outburst. In fact, the little shrimp had been quieter than normal, brooding, sullen, and Axel was pretty sure he'd heard him sneezing at some point or another.

 _Ha-ha. Pathetic little wimp._

That thought was, of course, immediately followed by _Oh, shit, what if I'm next? That little creepy bastard better stay the hell away from me…_

He rubbed his face. Don't worry about it. _Worryin' won't help. Now, let's focus on something nice. Like… Marluxia. Well, Marluxia's suffering, anyway…_

The pink-haired Nobody had been more quiet than anything else since his ill-fated dish-duty had begun. He still shot irritated glances towards Axel whenever Larxene got a little to… vocal in her appreciations.

 _Heh. Jealous, Marluxia? I'd never have thought._

The ass was probably jealous just because he wanted something Axel had. _You always_ were _selfish, Marluxia. Always have been, always will be._

Besides, Axel wasn't happy with the vapid blond bitch. He had a hankering for a much more interesting blond.

 _Hard to get to him when I'm stuck in this damned forest!_

Growling to himself, he folded his hands under his armpits in order to warm them. _Damn, we need to get out of this damned forest… I just want to see Roxas again, dammit, that's just too much to ask, isn't it…_

He glanced up as Zexion, nose faintly pink, called everyone together in a voice that was slightly thicker than usual. _Great. Time to go play nice with the special kids._ He pulled himself to his feet with as much grace as he could muster with wet leaves sticking to his backside, and drifted over to the others.

"It's no use staying here," Larxene was already trumpeting loudly. "There's nothing here for us. And I do mean _nothing_."

"As loath as I am to agree," Marluxia said, stiffly, "Larxene may have a point."

"I hate this place," Axel offered. He was ignored, which made him sulk briefly.

"This place is nicely anonymous," Zexion said, and turned away to sneeze. "Bud," he admitted, rubbing his nose with one hand, "we bay as well discuz leabing."

Vexen looked downright amused at Zexion's new speech impediment. "Feeling a little under the weather, Zexion? Do you have a suggestion as to where we go next?"

"It should be a group decision." Lexaeus rumbled, draping the stitched-together skins of several nights' dinners over Zexion's shoulders. "No more haring about willy-nilly, with one person opening a portal on which all our lives depend."

"Just prancing about in the darkness is dangerous," Vexen agreed cautiously, sitting back against a tree. "Planning is essential."

"I want someplace warmer," Axel groused. "And drier."

"With better company," Larxene sniffed. "I'm tired of trying to wrest my entertainment from Zexion's bitter fingers."

"Shut up," Zexion grumbled. "I told you, I'll not let you find another reason to cry wolf on assault."

Larxene's lips pursed, and it appeared that she was now rethinking her witty riposte from earlier days. "Hmph. Somewhere with civilization would be nice."

"But not a desert," Marluxia added, with a short glare towards Axel. The redhead shrugged.

"Hey, it seemed like a great idea at the time. Look, if you all want suggestions? I've got one: Twilight Town."

Everyone stared at him for a moment, and he waited for the cacophony of voices to start, the protests, the declarations of insanity, the insults. It never came; the others sat back, chins in respective hands, looking thoughtful.

Presented with such a glorious opportunity, Axel decided to press his luck. "Seriously, think about it. It's nice, it's civilized, it's _warm_ … I mean, really. We can have real food again, not half-raw deer or rodent, or whatever Larxene manages to catch and kill in a day. Coffee! Tea! Cake!"

Zexion rubbed his nose, sighing. "Twilight Town."

Vexen wrung his cold hands together. "Perhaps a little too close, too close to the Darkness. We should rethink…"

"I disagree, Vexen," Marluxia interrupted. "Twilight Town would be a very good starting place to rebuild our supplies. We are running low on favoring herbs, salt, our blankets are getting worn and dirty, and I have lost two forks in the stream." He gave everyone cold glares as if to say _If I had_ help _and you idiots didn't let me work until my hands were frostbitten and numb with cold, it wouldn't have happened! Idiots!_

"Twilight Town does have its advantages," Lexaeus agreed, his low rumble cutting between the sharp glares traveling back and forth between Marluxia and Vexen. "Perhaps Axel's idea has merit."

"For once," Marluxia agreed, if reluctantly. "I, for one, cannot think of a better place, I suppose…"

"Surely, there…" Vexen fell silent, turning quickly as the bushes to his left began to rustle.

"Oh, great," Larxene groaned. "I hope it's not another one of those big wolves…"

"Maybe it's a bear," Axel pulled himself to his feet, flames already licking along his fingers. "Or another moose." He cast a significant glance at Lexaeus, who was already standing, hovering protectively over his bedmate, whose own hands were out in an unmistakable gesture of summoning.

Everyone was on a hair trigger, and had to immediately stumble back and dispel half-called weapons when a short, old woman toddled into their camp.

She looked around, looked at them, looked briefly amused before arching an eyebrow. "Oh? What's all this?"

No one could form any sort of response. Struck, quite literally, dumb, everyone simply _stared_ for a moment, before rounding on Vexen.

"You _said_ this world was uninhabited," Zexion hissed, eyes sparking briefly.

"I said I _thought_ it was uninhabited, and how was I to know! We didn't see any _sign_ of civilization, any _spark_ of human life…" Vexen snarled in response, eyes narrowed.

"I would hardly call them civilized," Marluxia's eyes never left the old woman. "What now?"

Hands behind her back, the woman hummed to herself as if she couldn't hear them plainly discussing her as if she was a brick. Lexaeus was the only one who didn't speak, eyes flicking between the looming peak of the mountain and her.

"We could just get rid of her," Larxene suggested with a giggle, and was immediately shot down with five " _No_ "s. She pouted. "Just a suggestion."

"Look, ok, let _me_ handle this," Axel said, pulling away from the group. Before anyone could stop him, he puffed his chest up and swaggered towards the old woman. "Hey, what gives you the right to just barge into our camp like this, don't you know who we are?"

"Hm. Well, I was just on my way back from the Mountain where the Great Spirits touch the Earth," she said, rubbing her chin. "They had some _fascinating_ things to say, let me tell you. Anyway. Oh, goodness me, I suppose I should introduce myself!" She grinned, not at all afraid of Axel's presence, and put a hand to her chest. "I am the angakkuq for my tribe." At everyone's blank look, she sighed. "Ah… I suppose you could call it "spirit woman" or… "shaman", if you wanted to. Hm. As for why I'm here, why, your camp wasn't here when I came through the first time." She looked honestly amused. "Can you say you own this Earth?"

"No," Lexaeus rumbled, cutting off whatever Axel was going to say. He looked more relaxed now; something had apparently been bothering him, and this woman must have explained it. "Not technically."

Zexion looked rather amused. Axel glowered at Lexaeus and quickly snagged control of the conversation back before anyone could interrupt again. "Look, you'd better just move on, and not tell anyone you saw us, got it, or something bad might happen."

He figured this wasn't the best idea, because he felt several angry pairs of eyes on his back. _Relax, assholes, I'm not_ really _going to do anything to this stupid old bitch. Sheesh, you'd kill me before I'd even try, thinking I'd turn on you all next. Heh. Maybe you're smarter than I gave you credit for…_

The old woman's lips were pursed, her eyes narrowed. "I didn't peg you for a bunch of tuurngait," she finally said, taking a step back. "And I wasn't warned either."

"Turnwhatsit?" Larxene piped up, eyes narrowed. "Are you insulting us?"

"Evil spirits," the shaman said, jabbing a finger at Axel's chest. "You're quite rude and arrogant, but I didn't take you for evil…"

"Clearly, you've never met him before," someone muttered, and Axel was almost certain it was Marluxia.

"We're _not_ evil," Zexion broke in quickly, raking a nervous hand through his hair. He immediately followed that with a wet sneeze.

Axel rolled his eyes. "Look, uh, we're not evil spirits, we're _Gods_ , got it memorized? Look, we just didn't want to draw the attention to ourselves, really. Yeah, see, I'm the Great Sun God and he's the Earth God and over there you've got the Storm Goddess and the Winter God and he's the Shadow God, and, uh… the guy with the pink hair is the God of Fertility."

"Oh, so that's a man, I see," the shaman said, and Axel had to swallow a cackle at Marluxia's strangled noise of rage. The woman, however, seemed unconvinced at Axel's brilliant ploy. "And… Gods. Of course."

"No, I mean it," Axel said, throwing his arms out to his sides dramatically. "I'll show you that the great Axel doesn't lie!" His chakrams were in his hands with a flare of orange light, spinning in his hands with a simple flick of his wrists, and yellow flame licked its way along the metal spokes.

He sensed everyone tense, knew that if he wasn't quick and smart about this, other weapons would soon be drawn. He kept the show brief but flashy, dispelling his weapons with a small explosion of fire.

Nose twitching, the woman didn't _seem_ afraid or even slightly cowed. "Hm," was all she said in reply to that, rubbing her chin. "You have interesting totems," she said instead, picking up an empty can of beans. "What sort of animal is this?"

"…it's a can," Axel said, briefly at a loss for words at her apparent stupidity and rapid shift of topics. "…a tin can," he elaborated after a moment.

"Hm," the shaman woman said again, shaking it briefly before tossing it over her shoulder. "That'll never do. If you're truly God spirits then I should think you'd need real totems on the earth."

"Uh," Axel said intelligently. "Well, sure, but you know, we _really should be going soon_ , you know, important Godly duties and all that."

"Now hold on _just_ a minute," the woman said, and it woke some distant memory in the back of Axel's mind, of some similar old woman with a wrinkled face, someone to be obeyed at all costs. "I'm pretty sure _you're_ the group they were talking about… you're certainly strange enough."

Zexion's eyes flicked to Lexaeus' nervously, then back to the woman. "Who was talking about us?"

The woman waved a hand, frowning thoughtfully. "I mean, this _is_ Salmon Run Falls, and you _are_ certainly a strange group. Ah, well. I suppose it's for the best after all, _I'll_ never use these…" she started fishing around in a pouch at her waist, muttering, pulling out small bits of sinewy string, a fishing hook, a polished, rounded stone, a bundle of dried herbs, and the furry foot of some sort of small mammal. "Oh, where did I put those…"

Axel traded a look with Zexion. "I should've let you handle this," he muttered. "You're better with crazy people."

"Aha!" the shaman straightened, hands cupped together. "Now, I am Tenana," she said, smiling. "And you are?"

"…Axel," Axel said. "We went over this once. Remember?"

"Akychal," she mused. "Hm. Well, let's see. This one should fit you nicely," she pressed a carved stone into his hand. He held it up, frowning. It was neither shiny, nor pretty; just a regular brown rock that had been carefully shaped to look like a dog.

"…it's a rock," he said.

"It's a _totem_ ," she corrected him.

"It's a _dog_ ," he added, determined to be upset with this.

"No, you're definitely not doglike," Tenana looked distinctly amused. "It's a Coyote. And boy, it's hit the nail on the head this time. You certainly _are_ a trickster. 'Coyote is known as the great one and the foolish one, and will go to great troubles to ensure the safety and well-being of those closest to him,'" she said, and sounded like she was quoting someone.

"Uh." Axel quickly pocketed the rock. "Right. Huh."

She simply gave him another piercing look, and he felt suddenly quite, quite uncomfortable, like she was seeing far more than he wanted her to. He quickly took a step back. "Look, let's just… hurry this up, huh? We're busy beings."

Snorting, the woman moved over to Larxene, giving her a smile. "Must be difficult being the only woman in the group."

"You've no idea," Larxene sighed dramatically. "What have you got for me?" she then asked, perking at the idea of getting any sort of possible gift that was better than what Axel got.

"Hm, let's see here… Aha, here you are." She pressed another totem-rock into Larxene's hand. "Fox; witty, clever, crafty, feminine magic and feminine courage. 'Fox teaches  
us how to slip out of unpleasant situations quietly and unnoticed.'" She smiled, patted Larxene's hand in a motherly manner and moved past her to Marluxia.

"I do like your hair," she said, holding out a totem to him. "And I think this fits you nicely."

Marluxia snatched it from her, barely even looking at it. "Hmph," he said. "We don't have time for this."

"Hawk," Tenana said, ignoring his rudeness. "Observant, leadership, courage. Pride, nobility and strength, beauty and grace. The hawk is regal and aggressive. Having this totem can be bittersweet," she added, her expression becoming serious and stern. "If we accept its presence in our life we will be asked to surrender anything that doesn't honor the integrity of all life, be it an idea, a feeling or an action."

Marluxia's jaw twitched lightly. "I accept no demands. Especially not from you."

"Oh, I'm not sure how much of a choice you'll have," Tenana shrugged. "The spirits work in strange ways." She turned away from Marluxia, who appeared to be fighting down an angry snarl.

Vexen had been largely ignoring the confrontation, eyes distant, mind focused more on what the near future held, and the probability of going back to Twilight Town. As Tenana approached him, his gaze snapped back into focus, and he straightened. "What is it," he snapped, drawing chilly dignity about him like a cloak.

"Something for you, too," she said thoughtfully, handing him his own carved rock. "Crow suits you best, so they say. Survival, eloquence, teaching, a cunning trickster in your own right, though different than Coyote. Change follows you, though you may not welcome it." She took a step back, regarding him thoughtfully. "Crow knows the unknowable mysteries of creation and is the keeper of all sacred law."

Vexen gave her a faint smile, and pocketed the totem. "Thank you," he said, determined to be polite where Marluxia had been crass. _What utter nonsense. I never held with spirituality._

"Dusty old bird," Larxene tittered behind her hand. She'd seen several crows already, loudly cawing and rattling about. Vexen gave her a cold glare.

Tenana pretended to ignore all this, too, and moved to Lexaeus. "Why, I've never seen a man as large as you," she said, eyes crinkling in a smile. "Do you fall under the category of "gentle giant"?"

"I will not harm you," Lexaeus kept his arms relaxed at his sides. "As long as you do not mean us any harm."

Tenana just smiled and held out a totem, which he took without hesitation. "Bear," she said, and chuckled. "And not just for the fact that you are as large as one! Bear brings patience, strength, power, self-knowledge and fearlessness. Bear is guarding, nurturing, fiercely loyal and protective." Her eyes flicked between Lexaeus and Zexion; she hadn't missed the way he had stood so protectively over him. "But beware, Bear can sometimes be too quick to anger and too sure of it own power. While they have little to fear they can forget caution, which is an important trait to have." She smiled and turned to Zexion. "And, let's see, last of all…"

Zexion straightened, meeting her gaze evenly and calmly, and promptly squinched his face up to prevent a sneeze. After a moment, he fought it off and shook his head. "Hmph. Continue."

Tenana merely chuckled and handed him a small totem. "Weasel," she said, and couldn't help but grin at Zexion's somewhat crestfallen look. Someone behind her snickered. "Don't be so disheartened, Weasel is elusive, intuitive, ingenious, crafty and intelligent, as well as cunning, fierce and relentless. Weasel has a keen sense of smell, and an ability to see clearly in the dark, linking them to the underworld, where the secrets of creation are hidden." She folded her arms into her sleeves, and her voice dropped a bit in volume. "But it is said that Weasel is a loner who has no code of honor. They often kill more than they can eat, and steal food from other creatures. Be aware of both of the positive aspects of your totem, and the negative, and work to counteract it!"

She turned to face the others. "That goes for you all, friends," she said, bestowing everyone severe looks. "These totems should serve to remind you of who you are, and to help guide you in your quest."

"Who said we were on a quest?" Axel's fingers automatically dropped to the pocket of his coat, fingering the carved coyote.

"Well, I should be going!" Tenana was suddenly all smiles again. "It was really a pleasure meeting all of you, and if you are truly Gods, then it was an honor indeed!" She bowed. "Now, remember what I've told you, and may the spirits guide your paths. Hm, good thing I had those extra totems lying around…" Smiling, she wandered off out of the clearing, heading back towards her tribe, leaving the surprised and silent Nobodies behind.

"…so," Axel finally said. "Twilight Town?"

"Sounds good to me," Larxene nodded.

"I agree," Zexion looked down at the carved weasel in his hand. He closed his fingers around it, turned his hand over to drop the stone and stopped, fist clenched tightly. Then, he put his hand in his pocket and sighed. "Let's go, quickly, before someone less friendly shows up. This world _is_ inhabited by civilized humans after all."

"I would hardly call wearing skins and believing in rocks civilized," Marluxia scoffed, but he, too, did not throw his totem away. "This is clearly no great world of men."

"It doesn't matter," Lexaeus rumbled. "We have done what we needed to do, and now we should return somewhere to restock our supplies. Come."

"Right," Axel agreed, turning and opening up a portal. "Twilight Town, this way." And just to show everyone that he _wasn't_ as much of a trickster as his totem- _aw, hell, I've gotta stop believing in this fairy-tale bullshit_ \- showed, he stepped through first, knowing the others would follow.


	38. Chapter 036 – The Twilight Zone (XXX)

Chapter: 036 – The Twilight Zone.  
Location: Twilight Town  
Characters: Lexaeus, Zexion, Axel, Vexen, Marluxia, Larxene.  
Rating/Warnings: R / MA? A bit of swearing, random gay sex. Worksafe version: here.  
Summary: _Proper_ civilization, at long last! Finally our heroes can get the rest they deserve. ... That is, no rest for the wicked?  
Authors' Note: Two things. First - this chapter was co-written by all three of your writers. An interesting result, yes? Second - this is the last chapter of the first part of The Renegades. But never fear, the first chapter of Book II should be up soon. You didn't think we'd give the dears a _break_ did you..? 

**Chapter 036 : Twilight Town – The Twilight Zone. (XXX)**

* * *

Lexaeus' shoulders felt tense. He would not say it was the town- though its near proximity to the Darkness _was_ slightly worrying- because the warm, rich, eternal twilight was soothing.

No, it was the fact that they were back in a civilized world, full of people, full of danger, full of uncertainty.

Zexion would call him anti-social, would claim that he just didn't like _people_ , and that he simply needed to get out more.

 _Ha. I am sorry, Zexion, but you are one to talk._

He pushed that to the back of his mind, sighing. "All right, Axel," he said tiredly. "Where do we go from here?"

"Well," Axel rubbed his chin, nodding towards a street. "There's a hotel, that way, down the street by the railroad station plaza. It's not too far, if I remember right… Let's go, huh?"

Vexen was uncharacteristically nervous, wringing his hands. "I am not certain that this is a good idea," he said quietly.

"It is the best we had," Lexaeus rumbled, gesturing a bit. "Lead on, Axel. Show us this hotel."

Axel nodded, and turned, starting down the street when, out of a side alley, a streak of camo and blond ran slap-bang into him. Cursing (and it was difficult to tell who swore louder, Axel or the blond), the pair fell in a tangle of limbs, kicking and flailing to try and pull away.

Lexaeus, looking skyward seeking patience, waded in and pulled Axel up by an arm and the boy up by the collar of his shirt. Brown eyes sparked angrily under a mop of wiry, slicked-back wavy hair. "Put me down!"

"You should watch where you're going," Lexaeus rumbled, setting the boy back on the ground.

"You should mind your own business," the boy retorted, and before Lexaeus could reply, was off and running again, down a side street.

"…I already hate this place," Marluxia told Larxene, briefly forgetting that he wasn't on speaking terms with her. She merely nodded soberly in reply.

Lexaeus dusted off his hands and glanced at Zexion. The Schemer had a frown on his face and was eying Lexaeus in a way that told the Silent Hero that he had either done something wrong, or Zexion had noticed something particularly disturbing.

 _Things can never go right, can they._

"Come," he said, letting go of Axel's arm slowly. "Show us the way, Axel."

The hotel was a simple place, with a simple sign and enough rooms for them to go two to a room. Lexaeus, as the keeper of the munny, handed over the amount for the room and frowned to himself as he made a note of how much they had remaining. _Expensive, I think, but worth it in the end. We all need some time… apart._

"What next?" Larxene was leaning against the doorframe, watching people walk around the streets. "Man, this place is _boring_."

"It gets lively… sometimes," Axel muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Zexion rubbed at his nose, gratefully accepting a tissue the desk clerk offered him. "I think I will rest for a while," he said, blowing his nose into the tissue. "This place might help," he added. "It's warm at least."

"And not wet," Larxene added with relish. "Not wet, of all things…"

Lexaeus took the keys when the clerk handed them over. "Enjoy your stay," he said, all smiles. The Silent Hero merely nodded and drifted over to join the others. "Zexion and I are in room two," he said, pressing the other two keys into Vexen's hands. "We can afford three rooms, and these people will not look down on us depending on how we divide ourselves."

"Well, I know who my roommie is," Axel grinned widely and slid his arm around Larxene's waist. She tittered in response and leaned on him, smile wide and tinged with faint cruelty.

Marluxia and Vexen looked at each other slowly, with near-identical expressions of muted disgust and horror.

"Surely," Vexen said, turning to face Lexaeus, "we can afford another room?"

"No," Lexaeus rumbled, as firm and unyielding as a mountain. And, like a mountain, it would take more time than Vexen had to erode and chip away at his determination. "Now, what are we doing next, is it decided?"

"Well, I know little weasel there wants to rest," Larxene said, smirking faintly. Zexion glared, but said nothing in response. "And since he's all sicky-poo, let's let him rest and go do something _fun_ , Lexy."

"No," Lexaeus said, utterly flatly, resting a hand on Zexion's shoulder as the other Nobody began to growl faintly. "I will be staying with Zexion. He needs my care."

Larxene rolled her eyes. "He's not _dying_ ," she began, but Axel cut her off.

"I've got some things to do," he said, letting go of her waist. "Why don't you have a look around town, Larxene? I think you might like it."

"No killing," Lexaeus added, eyes narrowed. "Though by this point I should not have to tell you that. Either of you."

"Yeah, yeah," Axel muttered, waving a hand and jamming his hands down into his pockets. "Whatever, _Dad_." He skulked off without another word, never looking back.

"Sourpuss," Larxene scowled. "I guess a girl's got to make her own fun these days. Ciao, boys." She plucked a key out of Vexen's unresisting hand, winked and flounced off in the opposite direction of Axel.

"I trust the two of you can amuse yourselves without getting into trouble," Lexaeus transferred his gaze to Marluxia and Vexen.

"I'm not a child," Marluxia snapped, indignantly, but Vexen was already leaving. Apparently, he hadn't heard what Lexaeus had said.

"He has his own agenda, I suppose," Zexion muttered, blowing his nose into his tissue. "Ugh. I'm going to go lie down. This twilight is lovely and all, but it's giving me a headache and making me tired."

"Behave yourself, Marluxia," Lexaeus said, and there was more than a hint of warning to his tone as he gently laid a hand on Zexion's shoulder and guided him up the stairs to their room.

Brushing by a rabble of local teenagers slouching at the street corner outside, Vexen hurriedly made his way away from the hotel, quite unable to stand the others' presence for another minute.  
One of the young ruffians straightened as though to call out to him, no doubt looking for trouble, or entertainment - which when it came to that kind of teens often seemed to be the very same thing. He studiously ignored them and hurried his steps, easily leaving them behind.

The town was large enough to house its fair share of shops and restaurants, yet small enough to be quiet, even drowsy. Or maybe it was just the approaching nightfall that wrapped the place in such a lulling blanket of tranquility, he absently thought as he walked down narrow streets.  
High above blazed the magnificent sunset, painting the skies a hundred shades of gold and red and _fire, fire, fire_ …

He shuddered in spite of himself.  
There was a restlessness inside him, a crawling, unpleasant sensation buzzing along his nerves as he hurried across a half-empty square.

The town was not really familiar to him, but a part of it had been etched ruthlessly into his memory, and that place, _through the wall, here, and then the forest_ , was where he was heading now. Not for any rational purpose, not really knowing what it was he hoped for or wanted to find, but from the moment he had breathed the summery air under those red skies again the urge hadn't left him alone.

The notion was worse than just folly, it was _irrational_ , and yet, even as he tried to convince himself thus with every fiber of his being, he succumbed to it slavishly nonetheless.

Soft moss muffled his footsteps as he slowed his impatient strides, almost notably hesitating before leaving the relative protection of the trees behind.

The illusion created from Sora's – no, _Roxas'_ \- memories had been close to perfect; the scene before him exactly as he remembered.  
High sandstone walls overrun with ivy, once imposing but now half-rusted iron gates, an overgrown path leading up to a large abandoned and neglected house glimpsed beyond.

The small grassy area between forest and gates.

He stood silent, no longer able to keep the memories at bay.

The Keybearer had stood _there_ , innocent, justified anger and confusion in his large blue eyes. He himself had knelt _here_ , every cell aching after battling first Riku, then Sora, then Sora again… He had managed to drag himself to his feet, throwing all refinement to the winds for one final gamble, desperate to make the boy turn back, go away, and then Axel had appeared _there_ …

He glanced down at his hands. They were shaking violently and he stared emptily at them.

The first blazing chakram had hit him square in the chest, knocking him off his feet again. He'd gotten up one last time, distantly remembered begging and pleading.  
And then…

Suddenly, illogically, the world was spinning and he staggered back against the wall for support, slid down it until he was sitting on the grass, and still he felt like falling. Cold sweat made his hair stick to his face, blinding him, and violent tremors shook his entire being, his stunned mind desperately struggling to understand, find a rational explanation for what he shouldn't be able to feel.

 _Fear._

Choking, paralyzing, _impossible_ fear, the taste of it bitter and tangy on his tongue.

There had been the stink of smoke, of burning hair and flesh, and pain, such impossible pain…  
There was an odd, choked sound and he realized it had come from himself, laughed a breathless sobbing laugh, closed his eyes, tried to get his breathing under control.

He was still shaking, and there was no _reason_. He couldn't really _feel_ it, it wasn't _there_ , just instinct, a body's and mind's normal response to an overly taxing situation, he knew that, and yet, yet…

Had he come here hoping for closure? Thinking that by confronting the scene of his unspeakably vile death the memories could be put aside, conveniently categorized, ignored and forgotten?  
A faulty hypothesis, apparently. Memories were what shaped the core and soul of a higher level Nobody, after all, and this was one memory he would never be free of, scarred by it, twisted by it forever more.

Damned be Axel, to have burnt his mark upon his very being like so!

And damned to hell be Marluxia; enticing, alluring, traitorous Marluxia, for so callously speaking the order in the first place.

There were no tears; so complete was not the phantom-pain emotion, and no such simple, human release from the raging confusion, pain and shock was offered him.  
Even so he pulled his knees closer to his chest and hid his face in his shaking hands, wanting no longer to see this place, to remember, to so very, very nearly feel.

They had all betrayed him. All of them, so easily, without second thought.  
Would no doubt do it just as easily again.  
And they were all he had.

 _Damn them, damn them, damn them, every last one of them._

Zexion lay down on the bed, eyes closed, holding the tissue to his nose. "This sucks," he told Lexaeus, voice rather thick.

Lexaeus closed the shutters and settled beside him. "It's just a small cold," he said, one arm settling around him loosely. "Nothing too terrible."

"I hate being sick," the Cloaked Schemer mumbled. "I never get sick. Ever."

"I know," Lexaeus murmured, stroking his hair lightly. "If I could make you feel better, I would."

"I know," Zexion grumbled, looking away. He sighed, feeling the pressure on his sinuses easing with his new posture. "Are we alone?"

"Completely," Lexaeus murmured, continuing to stroke his lover's hair. "Everyone else has left, and besides, this is our own room. I have locked the door."

"Good," Zexion rolled over, finally looking at Lexaeus. "Our last world did little to… encourage intimacy."

"That is true," Lexaeus rumbled, his hand briefly stilling in Zexion's hair before continuing to gently comb and stroke out the small tangles.

"However, we are alone now," Zexion murmured, fingers sneaking up under Lexaeus' shirt to wander slowly over corded muscle. "Quite alone."

"Mm, yes," Lexaeus' eyes watched him, though his expression didn't change. "Are you quite certain you feel well enough for this?"

Zexion gave him a short, flat, unimpressed look. "I'm not terminally ill, Lexaeus," he said. Lexaeus could only nod, and he continued. "It's only a slight cold."

"I realize that," Lexaeus agreed.

"I am completely capable of seducing you right here and now," Zexion snorted, then sneezed and groaned. "Oh, hell."

Lexaeus mutely handed him a tissue. "Perhaps I shall make you feel better," he suggested, pulling Zexion flush against him. "Will that help?"

"Mm." Zexion held the tissue to his nose, blinking slowly. "Perhaps…"

Chuckling, Lexaeus wasted no time in carefully tugging Zexion's pants open and pushing them off of slender hips. When Zexion tried to push Lexaeus' shirt off on return, he found both delicate wrists caught in one hand and held to his chest, while Lexaeus continued to undress him with only one hand. "Lexaeus…"

He trailed off, shivered as dark eyes met his own. "Relax, Zexion," Lexaeus rumbled, and kissed Zexion's knuckles. "You should know by now that I would not harm you."

"Mm." Zexion slowly relaxed, eyes sliding shut and sighing. "Yes." It was still difficult, on occasion, to trust anyone, even the man who had proven himself ready and willing to die on Zexion's word.

He swallowed a gasp as Lexaeus' fingers curled around him, stroking him carefully, coaxing him into full hardness with barely any effort at all. "Ah," he said after a moment, hips rocking slightly. "Lexaeus…"

He tugged on his wrists, lightly, just to see if Lexaeus would relinquish his hold, and moaned quietly when the large Nobody's grip only tightened. He had given control to Lexaeus before, but had always felt that Lexaeus would do whatever he asked when he asked it. He was no longer certain of that fact now- perhaps something of the previous world had sparked some change in him. He wasn't entirely certain that he didn't enjoy it.

"Lexaeus," he said again, softly, almost a plea, hips rocking into Lexaeus' too-slow, gentle touch.

He was rewarded with a slight squeeze, and the brush of lips across his shoulder and neck. "Relax, Zexion," Lexaeus rumbled, eyes eerily bright, drinking in the sight and sound of his small lover under his control. "This is to make you feel better…"

Zexion inwardly winced as small, helpless, mewling noises escaped his lips, hips rocking mindlessly, desperate for more than the light, teasing strokes Lexaeus was giving him.

By the time Lexaeus trailed scalding kisses down his chest, he was already half-mad with need.

"Lexaeus," he managed, and it had been the only thing he could manage to say for some time, he was aware of that. He bucked and groaned as Lexaeus took him into his mouth with no trouble, no hesitation, no more teasing. _Oh. Oh, Powers. Oh._ "Lexaeus," he said again, weaving his fingers into Lexaeus' wiry hair. "Ah… _yes_ , Lexaeus…"

He curled forward, just slightly, trying to arch closer, craving more contact, his discomfort and sinus pressure entirely forgotten. He couldn't even focus on anything but Lexaeus' lips, his tongue, good _Gods_ , how long had it been?

Much too long, because it took an embarrassingly short time for Zexion's vision to go white, and for his breath to be completely taken away as his release hit him. He fell back, barely conscious of Lexaeus' hand finally letting go of his wrists and wrapping around his back, lying him down in a more controlled fall.

He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling as the world righted itself and Lexaeus lay down beside him. "Gods," he slurred, blinking hazily. "Mm. Lexaeus."

"Rest," Lexaeus pressed a kiss to his forehead. "A nap will make you feel much better, now."

"Mm," Zexion had no strength to fight, and besides, Lexaeus was "in charge" at the moment. _Not for long, though. Just this once. It can't hurt for a little while. It_ is _Lexaeus, after all. He's… safe._

Smiling, Zexion closed his eyes, heedless of Lexaeus rising and moving to the bathroom to take care of his own pressing need in the shower.

 _Yes. Lexaeus is… quite safe. We are quite safe here. A nap won't hurt._

Vexen had stalked off with the damned keys.

That was the entirety of his reasons for following the man, Marluxia told himself as he walked down from the hotel by the station towards the main plaza.

Vexen could be horribly difficult at the very best of times, and suddenly finding themselves about to share a room would no doubt give rise to a copious amount of petty complaints on the other's part. Complications that could maybe, hopefully be at least partially evaded if at least _one_ of them acted the sensible man and brought any delicate issues up for constructive discussion rather than just stalking off and sulking.

Without warning a trio of teenagers stepped into his path, led by a self-important young man in a white coat and a horribly ridiculous cap with what was probably supposed to be the word 'ME' stitched all over it in a horribly bad attempt at artistic calligraphy.

"Hey. You. You're new around here, aren't you? You and those others in black," the teen accused.

He lowered his eyebrows in annoyance, watching the last glimpse of black-and-blond disappear around a corner by the square further down the street.  
"Get out of my way, boy," he murmured and effortlessly moved the obnoxious obstacle out of his path with a graceful sweep of his arm.

The youth spluttered and flailed to regain his balance as he walked past.  
"Hey! _Hey_! I'm warning you, outsider! This is _our_ town and we don't want any trouble around here!"

"Excellent," he mumbled vaguely. "Glad to hear it. Keep it up."

He sighed and looked around the plaza, having temporarily lost his tall quarry from his sight. Damn the man.

Trust Vexen to whine about others' crude ways and then making himself scarce when he was for once wanted for a serious discussion.  
 _Difficult_ , always so difficult, one could believe the man made some sport out of it.

He shook his head slightly with a minute sarcastic smile and resumed his walking, muffled curses still going on ignored somewhere behind him.

Vexen. Arrogant, high-strung, demanding _impossible_ Vexen.  
Another grand scheme gone horribly wrong.

It had been a simple one; break the man, discredit him, finish him off in disgrace. State the perfect example with a most deserving higher-ranked Elder, and rule Oblivion unchallenged from that point on.  
But of course nothing was _ever_ simple when it came to Vexen…

It took him quite some time to pick up the trail again; if not for a rather gossipy shrubbery beyond a hole in the grand city-wall-turned-railroad-bridge he could have easily spent another hour futilely searching for the holder of those room keys.  
Then again, the presence of a secluded forest was a good sign. He had had a few quite pleasant encounters with Vexen in forests lately.

The thought made him smirk, then frown slightly.

It was _aggravating_ , honestly. If made to choose, innocent little Naminé or cruelly sensual Larxene were much more to his tastes; petite, feminine and beautiful.  
Vexen had been a _joke_ , a means to an end. Admittedly surprisingly pleasurable. An interesting pastime. A habit hard to break.  
 _An obsession._

So beautifully ironic; a master assassin caught by his own snare.  
 _Why, aren't you just a laugh, Marluxia…_

He made a sardonic grimace and walked on, tracks so fresh on the soft moss he had no trouble following.

The trees were thinning up ahead, and he finally spotted the tall dark shape he had been searching for, _and those walls, and that gate, and that mansion and oh, hell_.  
Much too late the pieces clicked into place and he stopped short, concealed among the sylvan shadows.

Vexen just stood there, his back towards the woods, silent and still as though transfixed. When he finally moved it was with slow, stiff motions, like a sleepwalker painstakingly tracing out the pattern of a lucid dream. _Or nightmare..?_  
After a few final staggering steps the man shuddered violently and sank into a crumpled heap by the wall, hugging himself tightly, shaking.

 _Unexpected_ , his stunned mind coolly supplied.

Vexen always _had_ been so stubbornly proud, refusing to utterly break down no matter what creative torment was bestowed upon him. And here, now, finally…

 _It should have been_ me _accomplishing that!_ sulkily mixed with a more rational _This little reminiscence may well come to have negative consequences for the future of the group_ , tinged by an exceptionally unexpected _Damn it all, you were supposed to have_ died _then and there, Vexen! I shouldn't have had to look you in the eyes afterwards, forced to justify my actions to you._

A Hawk must make sacrifices, that superstitious old hag had told him in the forest. But what good were sacrifices if rejected by some higher powers, the dead returned to confront you about flawed choices already long since left behind?

Vexen was still crouching by the wall. Truly a fool, wasting energy on such a strong reaction; but then, the old man always _had_ been lamentably lacking in self-control.  
Succumbing to ostentatious bouts of uncontrolled emotion was a trait of the weak anyway; perfect inner balance and equilibrium the only state befitting a true lord and warrior.

Yet, even so, as he watched the pitiful crumbling form of a once worthy adversary, there was an inexplicable constriction in his chest, the faintest echo of emotions he had never bothered with much even before the loss of heart.  
Not guilt, never that - but maybe, perhaps, the very smallest sting of regret.

Difficult, things were always so hopelessly difficult with Vexen.

The seemingly eternal sunset made measuring the passing of minutes or even hours impossible, but Marluxia remained standing hidden among the trees for a long, long time, keeping silent, unseen watch over his once-enemy.

He had been given quite a lot to think about.

This town was… dull. Despite an hour or two having passed since they arrived, the warm twilight was still the exact hue and brightness it had been then, the sun seemingly stuck in its descent for one everlasting, beautiful evening.

Hugely impractical, if that was the case. What good was a world without night and day? Some cozy gloom for dark deeds? The sunshine was soothing, though, almost making one forget the Darkness lurking nearby.

Larxene strolled around the town, poking her nose into alleyways and tiny shops, smiling charmingly at the locals whenever one got close. Lookie, little people, nothing dangerous here, see? She certainly was not to give anyone a reason to kick her off this world before she could get a proper shower. Hah, as if one couldn't always rely on her traveling companions for that!

Her wanderings brought her nothing more interesting than a small potion shop, though. No titillating little stores with black painted windows in back alleys, no interesting little bottles with deadly content at the apothecary.  
 _Boring_.  
Everyone seemed happy and friendly, without a care in the world. It made you shake your head, it really did. This world could use a real shake-up, and it was only a pity she'd have to refrain from giving it one.

Aimlessly, she drifted back to the Station Plaza. The others had wandered off, Darkness knew where. Lex and his little runt were probably screwing each others' brains out at this very moment, and that was not at all fair given that she wasn't getting any. Axel might be good for scratching that itch, if she could just locate him.

He'd have to come to her, sooner or later. She had the room key, and thinking of that, a long shower and some of the underwear in her bag freshly washed in the bathroom sink… oh, yes. Perfect. She leaned on the low wall on the precipice overlooking the town, idly mulling over the view. Maybe she'd be lucky and catch a splash of pink or red somewhere down there.

"Hey! You!"

The youthful, angry voice shouted almost in her ear. Turning, she found herself face to face with three of the natives, led by a blond with a too-short shirt and some attitude. Larxene lifted an eyebrow.

This only seemed to agitate the little punk further, as he puffed up his chest and with attempted authority said "We are the Twilight Town Disciplinary Committee!"

"And…?" Larxene didn't bother to keep the amusement out of her voice.

"Don't you diss Seifer, ya know!" the large, burly boy cut in. Larxene could feel a smirk growing on her face.

" _And_ we think you are looking suspicious. You're with those other freaks in black, aren't you? State your business here!" the blond answered, looking annoyed.

"Weird," it came from the third one, the little girl with the Zexion-wannabe hair.

Larxene tittered, smiling her most girly little smile, and pinched his cheek. "What a little cutie! Don't you worry, dear, we're just passing though. Nothing to worry about."

The kid looked like he'd die of combined mortification and rage. Face blushing red, he jumped back and brandished what looked like a giant blue dildo on a stick in Larxene's face. "Stop doing that, you, you…stranger!"

Larxene did what was probably the most unforgivable thing of all.  
She laughed.

Roxas was not in Twilight Town.

That much had become painfully apparent after a few rounds of thoroughly searching every nook and cranny of the place. Well, _dammit_.

Axel sat dangling his feet over the edge of their usual spot high up in the tower of the station, chin in his hand, looking out over the sleepy town below.

It had been a gamble from the start, but it _could_ have happened, y'know, things for _once_ going his way? But no, couldn't have that, of course not.  
 _Fuck_.

Maybe the kid had stopped coming here altogether after Axel's good influences had been withdrawn from him. Roxas must think him dead by now, anyway.  
Good ole Boss and his rabid lapdog were probably smack in the middle of turning Key of Destiny into the loyal, unquestioning puppet they had always seemed to think he should be.

Axel would readily admit to himself he needed Roxas, but what the boy didn't always seem to realize was that _he_ needed Axel, too, if only to have someone trustworthy there to watch his back.  
 _And maybe do more than that, if the mood was right…_

He absently traced an 'R' into the balcony beside him with his finger, the stone as yielding and soft as butter confronted with the blaze of his inner temperature.

He never thought he'd say it, but these past weeks spent running around with the other idiots had actually made him think about a number of things in a new way. He was less certain than ever now that the Organization was the best option, for him and Roxas both.

Careless and free - if not for the company he'd kept, the past month and a half had almost been _fun_.  
If only Roxas had been here, he could have been neatly snatched away to join their team…

But Roxas _wasn't_ here.

And that meant the time of indecision was over.

Maybe the Organization wasn't the best thing for them in the long run, but leaving Roxas behind any longer was just out of the question. They could always sidle off together at some later date, but for _now_ …

 _Sorry, guys. It's been great and all, nothing personal…_

He determinedly scribbled a lopsided 'A' next to the 'R' and circled them, because drawing a heart would both be girlish and downright ridiculous in their specific case.

There had never been any question about where his true loyalties lay. His current companions all called him a traitor, but really, that was all just a matter of perspective. Concepts like loyalty and treason always were.

Once they were all asleep, he figured he'd slit their throats before burning the hotel to the ground. It'd be the nice thing to do, considering how at least _some_ of them felt about his element.  
Oh, and it'd also make absolutely certain there'd be no miraculous escapes this time.

He sighed and leaned his elbows on his knees.  
Shame, really, but what could you do?

 _Well, sir, that's a long story, sir, but now it's all taken care of, no need to worry, sir. Roxas around?_

The muffled sounds of some kind of commotion down below shook him from his thoughts and he peered over the edge to see Larxene cheerfully harassing the local fauna.

He stood with a stretch and shrugged.

Yeah, probably about time to get moving anyway. He was getting hungry, and from up here he could spot several of the others aimlessly drifting back towards the hotel, probably for the same reason.

After one final thoughtful look at the view he turned and left.

Left behind on the balcony lay the pitiful remains of two ice-creams slowly melting into sticky, turquoise puddles under the ever-setting sun.

"Can't we talk about this, lady?!"  
The boy's voice had taken on a new note of desperation.

Larxene playfully shook his leg slightly, watching in amusement as Seifer yelped and tried to grab onto the wall next to him. Just to be sure, she extended her arm so that he dangled a bit further out over the precipice.  
"Oh, I think you have done quite enough of talking, dear."

"Let Seifer go, ya know!" the other boy yelled, making her victim turn yet another shade of pale.  
"No! Don't let go! Don't let go!"

The ugly cap slid loose and began the long, long fall down towards the rooftops below. Larxene grinned. "Well, maybe if you asked me _really_ nicely…"

A new voice from behind interrupted her fun. "Larxene, stop playing with the locals."

She turned her head and pouted. "But Lexie, he was really, really _rude_ to me."

"Probably well deserved," Zexion sniffed, then rubbed his nose.

Larxene gave him an artfully wounded look. "Actually, for once I am totally innocent, I promise."

The others seemed to be gathering around. Vexen had just walked up from the town below, and now gave her a doubtful glance. "Larxene, I highly doubt you have ever been innocent of anything in your entire life."

The two lackeys had been trying to discreetly slide up and assist their dangling leader during the little argument, and Larxene now gave them a sweet smile. "Want to join in on the fun, darlings?"

"Larxene." There was a clear warning in Lexaeus' voice.

She uttered a rude sound. "You'd better pay for something really nice today." Swinging her arm around, she dumped the blond in an undignified heap on the flagstones. The other two immediately rushed to his side, fussing and moaning.

"Are you all right, man?!"

"Ow…."

"Retreat."

The trio staggered to their feet, lackey one and two dragging their unsteady leader towards safety. Larxene watched them go with regret in her gaze. That was probably all the fun she'd have today.

Axel exited the station doors and raised an eyebrow as the brats stumbled by. "Been amusing yourself, Larx?"

"Until I was interrupted," she giggled, and placed a hand on his arm. The smile he gave her in return was a bit distracted, so she gave him a measured zap. Just to get his attention.

Once the fading cursing had died down, Marluxia had also returned, standing silently at the edge of the group. Both he and Vexen had the same distant look in their eyes, Axel too, come to think of it. Was there something in the water here?  
Larxene stretched her back and grabbed her bag.

"Don't know about you guys, but I could kill some dinner right now."

"Luckily, you won't have to," Vexen said dryly. "We need to replenish our supplies, as well."

"Let's head downhill," Axel suggested. "That's where all the shops are."

They had stopped by a small store with a garish neon sign and gorged themselves on hot, delicious food that for once someone else had prepared, sitting on the broad stone banister following the road. The owner of the place also carried potions, and everyone slipped a few of the precious little bottles inside pockets or below robes.

The food had cheered them all up, and they congregated on the stall across the street with renewed vigour. It took some determined haggling between them before Lexaeus was allowed to purchase a box of tissues for his suffering companion.

"If you gets toys, we should to," Axel noted, supported by Larxene.

"One could argue that the tissues are medical equipment, not toys," Zexion replied, then sneezed.

"I want one of those." Larxene said with a just-because tone of voice, pointing at a display of flashlights on a shelf.

The Elders looked at each other, then nodded.

"Acceptable suggestion. And it should be handy to avoid more great furry animals at night. I shall bespeak a pen and a notebook," Vexen said.

Axel pursed his lips. "You know, when you put it like that, I could use one too… a flashlight, that is, not some pieces of boring paper."

Everyone else taken care of, the collective gaze turned to Marluxia.

"Well?"

"Well what?" Marluxia replied, evidently returning from deep within his own thoughts. "What are we discussing?"

Axel snickered. "Lost in dreams, Marluxia?"

"I know the perfect thing," Lexaeus said, stepping up to the counter and quickly returning with a bottle and a small brush.

Marluxia shook the bottle with a confused look. "What the hell is this?"

"Dish soap," was the reply, to general sniggers. Marluxia snarled.

"Oh, don't." Larxene draped one arm around his shoulders. "You'll be happy for it soon enough."

The glare Marluxia gave the Silent Hero promised death, but he slid the bottle into his pocket without further comment.

Lexaeus paid for the purchases, and the shop owner's faintly confused smile followed them as they continued down the slope, towards the great Tram Common where the tram rumbled around in an eternal, seemingly useless circle. Vexen was savouring the last of the coffee from a thin paper cup, Zexion was blowing his nose in relief and Marluxia was silently bringing up the rear.

There was a small shop, right in the middle of the common; a small round house, with signs displaying colourful sweets and cookies. A cat sat grooming itself on the roof, and the small lady behind the counter cheerfully served a customer.

A tall customer, wrapped in a red cloak and with red bandages covering what could seen of his head. He seemed to be nodding as the lady piled several containers with a brilliant blue content before him.

The Elders stopped dead in their tracks. Marluxia walked straight into Lexaeus broad back, and Larxene continued a few steps before realizing she was now on her own.

"Wha..?"

The coffee cup fell from Vexen's stiff fingers and splattered its contents over the ground. Lexaeus looked like a corpse, all colour drained from his face, eyes bulging. A gagged little whimper was all that escaped his lips.

"It's him. Oh mercy, it's him." Zexion's terrified gaze was glued on the tall man, who was gathering up his ice cream, oblivious to his audience. With force of will seemingly driven by pure panic, he twirled around and grabbed Lexaeus' hand, trying to tug the large man into moving. "Come on, come on, we need to _get away!_ "

"What are you talking about?" Axel seemed shaken as well, and his edgy gaze jumped back and forth between the man at the counter and the terrified Elders.

The man had begun to turn, his arms full of packages. Vexen and Lexaeus were still frozen in place, looking like deer in headlights, prey frozen under the eyes of approaching doom. Zexion's voice had taken on a shrill tone.  
" _Move, damn you!_ "

The tram came rumbling along the track, briefly blocking out the stand, the little lady and the man in red from their sight.

The respite seemed to kick Marluxia into action. Grabbing Vexen's shoulder in one hand, he ripped open a portal and all but threw the paralysed man though it, growling at the others.  
"Get moving! We're out of here."

Axel and Larxene scrambled to obey, sliding into the Darkness as Marluxia took hold of Lexaeus' other hand and helped the frantic Zexion to haul the Silent Hero along, into the unknown beyond.

The tram rolled away, and all that remained was an empty paper mug gently rolling to a stop, and the faintest wisp of Darkness quickly dissolving in the hazy afternoon air.


	39. Chapter 037 – Where Nothing Gathers

Chapter: 037 – Where Nothing Gathers.  
Location: The World That Never Was  
Characters: Saïx, Xigbar, Xaldin, Luxord, Demyx, Xemnas, Roxas.  
Rating/Warnings: PG? Nothing special, mostly talking. The occasional mild wirty dord, at most.  
Summary: Meanwhile, elsewhere, business goes on as usual. Up until a certain point.  
Authors' Note: Another co-written chapter, providing new characters and new challenges... 

**Chapter 037: World That Never Was – Where Nothing Gathers.**

* * *

It was a bleak world that spread beneath the starless sky, as though the nearby Darkness hungrily sucked even light and color from the sprawling cityscape.

Only near the castle, ornate pinnacle and machinery of the constructed world that kept turning and turning to wrench frail existence from nothingness second by precious second, did the city have any kind of substance, any semblance to warped reality.

Close to chasm of the castle, reality was even solid enough for rain to fall. It often did, as though desperate to prove it could.  
The raindrops, neither warm nor cold, just barely _there_ , caught the moonlight as they fell, granted subsistence enough for a few more seconds after plunging into the gloom of the streets. They were gone before they hit the ground.

High above, like the ghost of a hollow promise, soared a lucid golden moon.  
Still faint, still barely there, but surely, surely in time…

Saïx stalked the halls of The Castle that Never Was, his heels making hollow clicking noises as he slowly, calmly made his way through the bleak, faceless corridors of the half-empty castle.

 _Such a large world to hold nothing._

He almost smiled in humorless amusement, but caught himself just in time. _I have work to do_.

He repeated that several times as he drifted past a window, the siren's song of Kingdom Hearts calling to him, beckoning him to stand, pause a moment, rest awhile in the reddish-gold glow. _You are growing more complete, Kingdom Hearts. Very soon, yes…_

It was such a funny thing, that a Nobody dared to have something akin to hope. Saïx realized his footsteps had paused, that he had turned his face hungrily towards the moon-like form in the sky to drink in the power that poured from it. _I have work to do._

He forced his slavering, demonic side down, concentrating on the meditation techniques that Xemnas- _In his infinite wisdom_ \- had taught him. _Work. I have work to do_.

He quickened his pace, moving away from the open windows and into a more shadowed section of the Castle.

 _Half of these rooms are empty._

He barely noticed, hardly cared. He was a Nobody, after all. No one had gone into the rooms of the six dead Organization members, not even Xigbar, who was famous for his desire to "examine" the items kept by his fellow members. Saïx wasn't even certain if anyone had gone into Proof of Existence.

The Castle that Never Was had been so silent lately.

Saïx smiled inwardly. _Perhaps that will change soon enough. It has been… dull_.

He lifted his hand and landed three sharp blows on the first door he came to that didn't have the odd, dull, blurry edge of disuse to it that Never Was did to the so-called real objects of this world. _How is it said? "Use it or lose it"? This place takes that seriously_.

It was a very mussed and flustered-looking Xigbar who answered the knock on his door. "Goddamn, Saïx," he said, idly brushing down the front of his askew Organization coat. "What the hell is so important? You see my future or somethin' and just _have_ to tell me about it?"

The Luna Diviner merely gave him his trademarked, dour, large-mouth bass-look, and shook his head. "The Superior has called a meeting, Xigbar. You are expected to attend. And I see you attending it. Promptly. You have fifteen minutes to… make yourself presentable."

"Another friggen meeting?" Xigbar smacked a hand to his forehead. "This is the third one this week. Seriously, dude, Xemnas has _got_ to stop holding these meetings. They're boring, and they cut into our well-deserved recreation time. Seriously, man, we're doing hard work here, we deserve a break every now and then!"

"You have fourteen minutes and forty seconds," Saïx intoned, earning himself a dirty look from Number Two. "It is at nine PM. Sharp."

"I'll show you sharp," Xigbar muttered under his breath. "Seriously, Saïx, where's your sense of humor?"

Saïx merely gave him a flat, disinterested look in response. Xigbar rolled his eye. "Right, right, you never had one, not even when you were Someone. Got it."

"Fourteen minutes exactly," Saïx intoned, and stepped aside as Xigbar threw a boot at his head. He watched, feeling a very faint touch of amusement as Xigbar stomped out, barefooted, to grab the boot.

"Ass," Xigbar added as he stomped back past him. "You got no sense of humor."

"Thirteen minutes," Saïx said, allowing the faintest touch of a smirk to touch his lips. "You will tell Xaldin that he, too, is expected to attend. And I expect to see you both _on time_ , for once," he added, his eyes sparking yellow and his tone slightly dangerous.

"If I see him, yeah, yeah, tell him yourself, you lazy ass," Xigbar pulled his boot on, cursing under his breath. He watched Saïx leave and muttered more curses, raking a hand through his hair to pull out the tie and comb out any tangles.

"Do you think he's just making it all up as he goes along?"

Xigbar glanced up at Xaldin, who was cautiously peering out of the closet. He kicked the door shut with his booted foot and shrugged. "Who the hell cares? I guess we'd better check it out, he sounded like he meant business. What a jerk."

"Better to be safe than sorry," Xaldin agreed. "...he's rather creepy."

"I've been sayin' that since I found him." Xigbar checked the time and grinned. "We got twelve minutes, that's time for another round if we're quick about it, huh?"

Xaldin rolled his eyes. "You always push the envelope, Xigbar."

"Yeah," Xigbar agreed, grabbing Xaldin's wrist. "I'm real good at it. It's what I do best. C'mon." 

Saïx found Number Ten by his desk, writing in his neat hand. He looked up and gave his guest a small nod of welcome.

"Seven. What gives me this unexpected honour?"

"A meeting." He idly eyed Luxord's room before elaborating, lingering on the window view of the faintly illuminated sky high above. "Today. Soon. Ten minutes."

"A meeting, indeed." Luxord gestured at the papers before him "With new missions to be handed out, I am sure. How shall I find the time to finish my reports from past ones?"

A snort. "Number Ten, I am sure you, if anyone, will be able to find all the time you need."

That earned him a small smile. "Perhaps. Oh, well, duty calls us. I will just finish this off and I shall be with you presently."

"Good." Saïx turned to leave, but paused in the door. "That reminds me. Xemnas said something about your new assigned world. It seems to have a fascinating moon."

"One could say that, though I suspect it's more a case of the local magic's particulars than anything directly related to their moon." Luxord rifled though the papers before him. "I have my notes here, if you are interested."

Saïx accepted the paper, giving it a quick glance. "Thank you."

"And you, Saïx. How is your latest mission faring?" There was nothing but mild interest in Luxord's voice, but Saïx's eyes turned sharp.

"Nothing new has emerged. I have been occupied with more pressing matters lately." He paused. "You should not speak of that, Ten."

"Afraid the Key of Destiny will emerge out of nowhere, demanding to know what you are talking about?" the other replied, feigning slight amusement.

"We all have our orders."

Another of Luxord's fleeting smiles. Saïx suddenly remembered why he didn't like Luxord very much. "Indeed. Indeed. I shall be discreet in the future, I assure you."

Not wasting more talk on an answer, Saïx just nodded curtly and left. Behind him, Luxord returned to his papers under the light of the translucent moon.

Fifteen was easy. Even thirty. Fifty was pushing it. At fifty-seven Demyx was sweating, biting his tongue, fingers virtually dancing across the slippery strings.

 _C'mon, c'mon… I can do 60, no problem, personal record, just a few more…_

He was surrounded by fifty-nine whirling and swaying water-clones when they all suddenly twisted, jerked sharply to his left and collapsed into sad little puddles.

"Aww, man!"

He turned to give the intruder a wounded glare.

"You didn't have to do that, Saïx! I just needed one more to... Personal record... Oh, never mind."

Whining at Saïx never helped. Hell, not even solid arguments ever helped.  
Seven was one of those few that could just step in and override his control over his element – which by the way wasn't in any way _fair_. Back when Vexen was around, the scientist had only ever tampered with his water when faced with the prospect of getting wet, but he had a sneaking suspicious Saïx did it because it amused him.  
Saïx was a bit of a bastard, really.

"How many..?" Saïx asked in his most disinterested, lifeless tone, sweeping his gaze across the rapidly drying puddles on the balcony.

Demyx sighed and dismissed his sitar, flexing his fingers.

"Fifty-nine."

Saïx just nodded.

"Good. You are improving. Can they all fight?"

He beamed with the unexpected rare praise.

"Technically, yeah… But the more they are, the harder they are to control. I figured, though, since they break pretty easily quantity might beat quality, you know? I'm sure I can do eighty in no time. That should knock anyone off their feet. Er. Except you, I guess."  
Saïx shrugged minutely.

"Possibly a good strategy. You should keep practicing."  
The man suddenly smirked, and while his usual expressionless face was creepy enough, Demyx had to admit to himself the smirk was much worse.

"I might even decide to drop by to help you. Maybe with enough practice you can even learn to withstand any little tidal... distractions. It might help you focus."

"Eh-heh, yeah. Right. Maybe. Thanks. Uhm. Did you want anything special?"

Saïx nodded, all business again.

"A meeting. We should hurry."

Nodding eagerly, Demyx fell into step with the berserker.

"Oh, good! Maybe I'll finally get a proper mission. I'm getting real sick of just running errands. Ah. Not that there's anything wrong with running errands! You know. Calling people to meetings and such. Er. Yeah."

Catching the warning gleam in Saïx eyes, Demyx slumped his shoulders and walked the rest of the way in dutiful silence.

Xemnas and Roxas were already in the throne room when they arrived, and Saïx shot the silent young blond a look, frowning slightly. Luxord had no business whatsoever asking him about his mission; when Sora was located again those who needed knowing would be told. Until then, asking questions was just downright… rude.

He swept into his seat, noting with some satisfaction that both Xigbar and Xaldin had indeed arrived on time, looking properly presentable – at least in Xaldin's case. Xigbar was _never_ properly presentable.

Finally Luxord arrived his usual fashionable 30 seconds late even as Demyx was making himself comfortable in the seat next to Saïx.

Seven black shaped had assembled.  
Six thrones gaped empty, as they had for quite some time now.

The Organization had suffered a hard blow, losing half its members at once, and answers were still as scarce as questions were plenty.  
Still, their Kingdom Hearts grew steadily stronger in the sky, and with or without the dead six, their endeavour would go on.

"Nothing new to report. Everything is progressing according to plan," Xaldin calmly stated.

"Likewise," Luxord nodded. "Although I would like to express a certain displeasure with the pace lately. I know we are regrettably a few men short, but seven cannot do the job of thirteen. Even I'm finding myself strapped for time these days."

Xemnas seemed to consider this, then sighed and inclined his head slightly.  
"Perhaps. We are all so very eager to witness the completion of our Kingdom Hearts. But maybe it would be wiser to slow down. We can afford no more... mistakes."

Luxord nodded, looking satisfied with the response.

"Do we get any new missions today..?" Demyx asked, looking hopeful. "If Luxord is feeling busy, I can help out. I could…"

"We need another new world scouted," Xemnas coolly interrupted. "I will hand you your instructions after the meeting."

The musician sagged and managed a half-hearted grin.  
"Right. Scouting. Important mission, I know. I'm on it."

Xigbar grinned.  
"And I'm still hunting for dragons. I've finally got one tracked down now. It'll make a beautiful Heartless."

Xemnas nodded, then turned to his left, his brilliant golden eyes - _like Kingdom Hearts_ \- seeking out Saïx' own.

"Nothing new has emerged on the events of Castle Oblivion," he reported. "My investigations continue."

"Still nothing new..?" Xigbar sniped. "For a fortune teller, you really suck at finding things out, Saïx. Maybe we should give your mission to Demyx instead?"

Demyx straightened hopefully and open his mouth, then very quickly shut it again after a dark look. The boy suitably silenced he turned his glare on Xigbar who just kept grinning insolently at him from his high chair at Xemnas' side.

"Report as soon as you learn something new," Xemnas firmly interjected, stifling any further disruptions.  
He nodded, swearing to himself he would have found something new to report before next meeting, to please Xemnas and wipe Xigbar's smug grin off, both.  
"Of course."

Peace restored Xemnas turned his gaze to Roxas, who had remained his usual sullen silent self throughout the meeting.

"Roxas..? Any news from Twilight Town?"

The boy looked up, a faint frown creasing his brow. He was twirling something between his fingers, looking preoccupied.

"All the Heartless eradicated and the gateways to the planes of Light and Darkness kept open and clear. But..."

The Superior gave the Organization's youngest member a questioning look.

"Yes..?"

Saïx narrowed his eyes, finally making out what it was Roxas kept playing with; a small and simple ice cream-stick.

Roxas looked up, unreadable blue eyes steady and yet uncertain.

"I may have... found something."


	40. Chapter 038 – Snowfall

Chapter: 038 – Snowfall.  
Location: Hart's Forest  
Characters: Larxene, Axel, Marluxia, Lexaeus, Zexion, Vexen.  
Rating/Warnings: PG? Pretty mild, nothing very offensive. 'cept that Bambi's mom dies. But that's a trauma for several generations already, and totally not our fault.  
Summary: Our heroes are trying to cope after having left Twilight Town so abruptly.  
Authors' Note: Co-written by your two going-away-to-India writers, to be able to get it out on time. Because we're just that dedicated. 

**Chapter 038 : Hart's Forest – Snowfall.**

* * *

 _KRRR-POW!_

The thunderclap echoed across the snowy field.

"Dammit!" Larxene shrilled as her intended target stumbled but kept running. Trudging through the knee-deep snow she tried to keep up even as a blazing chakram and a slashing rain of crimson petals collided in the air just behind their quarry.

"Aim, you idiots, aim! Oh, you couldn't hit your own bottoms with both hands…"

At her left she made out a towering black shape - _Lexaeus_ \- emerging from the trees, startling their prey back onto open ground.

Clenching her jaw she slid to a halt on top of a snowy hillock, drew in a short, deep breath and focused all her energy on one final shot.

 _CRRRACK!_

Another crack of thunder split the frozen silence, and the racing doe staggered and fell. This time it didn't get back up.

" _Yes!_ " Larxene crowed, jumping into the air, pumping her fist in triumph. " Yes! Got it! Yes! Food, food at last!"

High on adrenaline Axel and Marluxia exchanged a slightly carried away high-five over the twitching carcass before promptly remembering how much they loathed each other.

Axel coughed into his hand, slightly embarrassed.

"Right. Hey, where did the little one go?"

Marluxia shrugged loftily and poked at the rapidly cooling animal with his boot.

"Does it matter? This should feed us for a week or two, at least."

Larxene came trudging over, breathing hard, but she was grinning like an idiot, cheeks red and eyes sparkling.

"I thought we'd lost it for sure. Great teamwork, guys! Oh, hey, Lexie, can you chop this thing up? You're the meat-cleaver-man around here."

Lexaeus had joined them, tomahawk slung over his shoulder, and nodded solemnly. Even the impassive man looked pleased with their catch, though – food had been brutally scarce since they arrived on the wintery world, and the meat the felled deer would provide was more of a bare necessity than luxury.

Larxene stretched, looking extremely pleased with herself.

"Axel, how about you go back and help the others start a nice fire? Tell them that tonight we'll have proper dinner at last."

All too eager to get out of the cold once the hunt was over and the adrenaline was wearing off, the redhead nodded, snivelling, and pulled his coat as tightly around himself as possible as he stomped away across the white field.

As the others went down to their messy business, the never-ending soft snow began to fall yet again.

It had been snowing almost without pause since they arrived days before, stumbling headlong out from the dark portal and falling into the deep snowdrifts.

"Close it! Close it!" Zexion yelled at Marluxia, his voice shrill.

The seething Darkness winked out of existence with only a whiff of black smoke left behind, and Zexion collapsed back into the snow, limp with relief. "Thank Kingdom Hearts."

"What was that all about, anyways?" Axel said, shaking the falling snow from his head. "Who was that guy?"

"No time." Vexen seemed to have regained the use of his voice. "We have to move. He could still find us here. We need to get away from the portal."

"Find us? Not even Saïx would be able to track us down. He didn't even see us!"

"He may have! I will not stay around and wait for him." The Elder had struggled to his feet now, and determinedly started to walk away though the snow.

Marluxia grabbed his arm. "You're _not_ walking away on your own!"

"Then get moving." Violently wrenching his arm free, Vexen turned back towards the distant tree line. Marluxia made an angry noise.

Zexion and Lexaeus fell into step behind him, looking shaken. "Vexen is right." Lexaeus said, his usual deep rumble oddly subdued.

"We shall explain," Zexion hastened to add. "Later. When we are well away from here."

Larxene hissed, small sparks fizzling in the snowflakes that caught in her hair. "No way. You guys just dragged us halfway across the worlds _again_ , into another cold, miserable excuse of a goddamn _forest_ and you'd _better_ give me some answers before I open the portal right back to the hotel and my hot shower!"

The Elders blanched collectively, stopping in their tracks. "No!"

Marluxia narrowed his eyes. "Then tell us who that man was, and why you are all running like scared children at the mere thought of him."

Vexen sighed shakily, nervously brushing pale hair back behind one ear. "That was… the King."

"The King? Nah, the King is a mousy little guy with a tail and frigging huge ears. Would recognize him anywhere."

"Shut up, Axel. Not King Mickey of Disney Castle. Another king. The king of… Radiant Garden."

"You mean Hollow Bastion." Now Marluxia looked decidedly interested, crossing his arms and studying the three Elders.

"Yes. No. It wasn't Hollow Bastion when he still was king. We… I mean, us three and the other original members, we used to… work under him. A long time ago."

"I didn't know you all came from Hollow Bastion," Larxene interjected. "Explains why you all are such boring misers."

"Shut up, you too," Vexen didn't even look at her, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. "Yes, the King… was lost, a long time ago. He would not be happy to see us again. We should get moving."

Marluxia eyed him shrewdly. "And just how much did you six have to do with him getting lost?"

The shudder that ran though the three before him was enough of an answer. Axel cackled evilly. "Oh, so you're afraid your old boss will kick your asses for turning on him way back in the day, hmm?"

The look Zexion gave him was pure murder. "We... did not mean for things to turn out the way they did."

"You betrayed your king." The look Marluxia gave the Elders was unreadable. "And now you fear his wrath. I can understand that, but is he really formidable enough to track us here?"

"Yes." Vexen started to walk yet again, trudging through the drifts. This time, the others joined him. "Xemnas imprisoned him in the Darkness over ten years ago. I have no idea how he could have returned. We all thought him to be more than dead…" Another shudder ran though him, and he fell silent.

"Someone must have let him out." Zexion was worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. "Someone who found him."

"Or he broke out on his own. He could do that. I am sure he could." Lexaeus said.

"Ok, ok, we get it. You're scared he'll return your favours. But he can't be _that_ dangerous if Xemnas already defeated him once. He cannot possibly be dangerous enough for us to yet _again_ run from our stuff and a nice civilized world when we finally found one. What's his name, by the way?"

The Elders all looked at each other, faces pale. Finally Lexaeus spoke. "He is. We really should put some distance between us and our entrance point."

"You won't even say his _name_?" Larxene's voice was full of contempt.

Vexen tossed his head angrily. "None of that! It's just…" He hesitated, then continued. "You already know it. The impostor who took over after him also stole his name. Ansem. Ansem the Wise."

Silence reigned for a short while as they all walked along.

"Ansem, huh." Axel stared out at nothing. "Fancy that."

"Can't we at least go on to another world?" Larxene said. "This one is horrible. I have snow everywhere."

"Yeah, you didn't have to _wallow_ in your element, Vexen."

The Academic snorted. "I did not pick the place, don't blame me."

"You didn't? Who did?" Axel looked around. " _You_ , Marluxia."

The pink haired man coloured slightly. "There was no time to pick and choose."

"Seriously, man. The middle of the snowfall of the century. What were you thinking?"

"Never mind that. Just keep walking."

The days passed, wrapped in falling snow and framed by bare, grey tree trunks. The igloo that Vexen had constructed that first night when they had all but collapsed from exhaustion, unable to walk any further, was big enough for all of them but only just. They huddled in it at night, with Axel in the middle acting the human radiator, and always with at least one of them awake, keeping guard. At day, though, the cramped quarters forced them out into the cold.

In their frantic escape, both Lexaeus' and Zexion's bags had been left behind. Just how large a portion of their things that had been entrusted to the Silent Hero had quickly become painfully obvious. The rope, the tarp, the food, the spices, blankets, pots, pans… the list seemed endless. The Elders determinedly turned down any suggestion to leave for a warmer place, and there was quite a heated discussion before they all sullenly concluded to share what they still had of blankets and robes at night.

On the third day, Vexen had returned to the camp to find a small pot bubbling over the tiny fire, spreading the distinct, wonderful aroma of boiling tea. He eyed it silently. Zexion, sitting beside it, refused to meet his eyes.

"Zexion?"

"Yes?"

"I seem to remember, quite clearly, that the tea, and the pot as well, was in your bag."

"Yes."

"And the bag was left behind at the hotel."

"Yes."

"Would you kindly explain this?"

"I happened to have it in my pocket."

"The tea, yes, I could believe that. The pot, no. Try again."

The Schemer sighed. "My Lexicon."

"Excuse me?"

"I keep it in my Lexicon." Now a note of irritation had crept into his voice. "Like this."

He summoned a copy of the book and opened it on his lap. Muttering to himself, he turned a page, ran his fingers over the illustrations, and in the blink of an eye that the turning page was hidden from Vexen's view he redrew his hand holding a packet of spices.

Vexen blinked. "You can store physical items in the Lexicon?"

"Evidently." The other sniped, clearly not happy having to reveal his secret.

Vexen smirked cruelly. "You know the others will be… very offended that you forgot to tell them this little detail, Zexion."

"Oh, stuff it." Tucking his cold feet in under him, Zexion poured out a mug of tea. "I am too cold to care. Do you want the tea or not?"

Now a week had passed and the snow was still falling, silent and dreadful.

The constant snowfall muffled all sounds, blurred the world to a dark haze, blocking out any hints of starlight. Vexen found himself quite grateful for the cheap flashlights they had bought before fleeing Twilight Town; without the faint light the night would have been pitch black.  
He shuddered and rubbed his hands, on habit more than from the cold. At least tonight, for the first time since arriving, he wasn't hungry.

He really hated these guard passes.  
The snow and cold did not bother him, but sitting alone and exposed in the silent darkness outside the igloo certainly did. If someone-… _something_ he corrected himself – should approach them out of the darkness, he would truthfully rather not be the first to know.

Snow tumbled from weighed-down boughs further into the forest with a soft, thumping sound and he jumped, holding his breath until he was certain there was nothing else out there.  
Cursing himself for a paranoid old fool his nerves were still tense enough that when a dark shape _did_ in fact emerge soundlessly out of the gloom he was on his feet, bringing his conjured shield around in a fatal arc before conscious thought caught up with startled instinct.

Marluxia wordlessly followed his gaze down to the razor-sharp edge quivering to a halt half an inch from his chest. The hands carrying two steaming mugs remained steady, though, not even a tremble to betray any shock or fear at the attack.  
"Your vigilance is certainly reassuring, dear Vexen. I'm sure we will all sleep all the more soundly for it. But if you wouldn't mind..?"

Even the man's voice was calm and steady, as though there _wasn't_ still a lethal weapon pointed at him. Bastard. Scowling Vexen dismissed his shield and stepped back.

"What are you doing out here? Your watch is not until dawn. I could have sliced you in half," he sourly added, slightly disappointed he had not accidentally done so.

Marluxia shrugged and put down his cups on a convenient chunk of protruding ice.

"Possibly. I'm sure you would have mourned it deeply."

"You didn't answer my question."

Another half shrug as the Assassin fastidiously brushed the new-fallen snow off a rock before sitting down.

"Let's say I couldn't sleep. I brought tea – it's only the vile black variety Zexion insists on buying, but it'll keep a man warm on a cold night. Not that you'd need that, presumably. Still, a cup of tea never hurt anyone, especially on a night like this."

He narrowed his eyes.

"What do you _want_ , Marluxia? I'm sure you didn't come out here for a session of small talk."

Unusually serious blue eyes met his, brilliant even in the half-light.

"And what if I did..?"

The Assassin sighed and picked one of the cups, holding it in both hands to warm rapidly freezing fingers.

"We used to have the loveliest conversations over tea, once. Sometimes I rather miss them."

He scoffed and crossed his arms.

"Growing sentimental, Marluxia? Enough with the games. What is it that you want?"

The man gave him an irritated frown, turning the cup in his hands.

"Would you stop being difficult on principle, just for once? I am trying to make an effort here."

"That's exactly what worries me."

"Fine, suit yourself. We need to talk. _Really_ talk. Twilight Town made that even more apparent."

He found himself snarling, already tense nerves boosting the emotional response. Suddenly conjuring his shield again seemed a very tempting option.

"You've got a lot of nerve, Marluxia! You expect me to play tea-party and make polite small talk about my death with the man who ordered my execution?"

Marluxia scoffed derisively.

"Considering what you eagerly did with the man who ordered your execution in the last forest, one would think a cup of tea a small matter."

Before he could even open his mouth to sputter a furious reply, though, the Assassin made a face, biting his lip and raising a hand.

"Never mind. Uncalled for. I didn't mean that. Damn all higher powers, why is it so hard having a normal civilized conversation with you?"

Glaring he crossed his arms even tighter across his chest, beginning to suspect Marluxia was either drunk or delirious from sleep-deprivation.

When the expected outburst never came, Marluxia sighed and closed both hands over the cooling teacup again.

"I'm not fool enough to expect you to trust me, Vexen. I certainly wouldn't have done. But rationally you have to agree that the current power-balance within the group doesn't work to the favour of either of us. Zexion and Lexaeus are always watching each others' backs and even Axel and Larxene have banded together. Which leaves us."

Oh, _rationally_ , that was always a good one. Rationally Marluxia's calculated betrayal had made perfect sense.  
 _Rationally I'd like to smack your face in with my shield._

Plunging ahead despite his frosty silence Marluxia made a small gesture.

"Divided we would be weak, and at the others' mercy. Hardly an ideal position for either of us."

The man looked up again, serious blue eyes seeking his own, and it was rare and disconcerting to see no malice in their depths, for once. He didn't buy the act for a second.

"I'm not asking you to trust me Vexen, and I know better than trusting you. But for both our sakes we must be able to trust that when it _really_ matters, there will be no betrayal. We have enemies enough as it is to have to watch for hidden daggers within our own group."

He didn't bring up the slightly galling fact that he had very recently saved all their lives with his quick thinking and a hastily opened portal, Vexen noted. The false modesty almost made him angrier.

"Whatever," he sniffed. " I have managed to resist the urge to bash your head in while you sleep this far. I will just have to manage a little longer."

Marluxia raised his eyebrows, then chuckled quietly.

"Ah, I _have_ missed this, my dearest."

He looked into his untouched tea, pink hair shadowing and concealing his eyes.

"More than I expected," he admitted, and again the lack of cruel smugness to his tone seemed decidedly out of place.  
" If I had realized how much I would, back then, perhaps… Well. It hardly matters now."

As though suddenly eager for distraction he took a sip of the lukewarm tea and grimaced.

"Foul brown brew."

Vexen stared wordlessly at him, more certain than ever the man was finally officially going insane.

Then the heavy silence was broken by utterly displeased grumbling as Zexion emerged from the igloo, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Your watch is over, Vexen, enjoy your sleep. I know I was. What are _you_ doing out here?"

Vexen rose and stretched, sparing Marluxia a cool look down his nose.

"You're in luck, Zexion. Marluxia couldn't sleep and offered to take the next watch."

"Wha-..?"

"Oh, good. My bed should still be warm. Good-night, Marluxia."

The look on the Assassin's face was really quite rewarding, Vexen decided, as he turned to follow Zexion inside.

"Indeed. Good-night, Marluxia."

Leaving the dumbstruck man with the two cups of slowly freezing tea Vexen turned his back on the dark, snowy night to finally get his share of well-earned sleep.

Watching each others' backs? Well, if Marluxia was so eager to, indeed, why deny him his wish?  
Apparently the idiot could be useful for something, after all.


	41. Chapter 039 – Cold Light of Day

Chapter: 039 – Cold Light of Day.  
Location: Hart's Forest  
Characters: Vexen, Larxene, Lexaeus, Axel, Zexion, Marluxia.  
Rating/Warnings: PG, PG-13 for some swearing. Give them a break, they have to blow off steam _somehow_. u.u  
Summary: Life in the forest is hard, yet there are many reasons for staying put. Whatever will become of our dear Renegades..? 

**Chapter 039 : Hart's Forest – Cold Light of Day.**

* * *

There were dreams of fire again.

They'd become less frequent as time had gone by, but after Twilight Town they had returned to haunt his sleep again, more vivid and horrible than ever.

Unrested, Vexen rubbed his eyes and emerged from the relative warmth of the igloo into the refreshing knife-sharp chill of the ghostly white world outside.

Admittedly the vast amounts of snow and ice was a certain comfort; it had been easy for him to cover their tracks as they hurried away from the closed Corridor, and with his element present all around he felt a bit more secure than he would have otherwise done.  
It'd take a lot of stupidity to challenge a master of ice when knee-deep in endless snow, after all.

Not that stupidity wasn't a distinctive trait among several of his more treacherous traveling companions.

He ignored Lexaeus' polite nod and stalked off a bit into the forest, determined to enjoy the peace and privacy while it lasted; the others would be awake soon enough, and the whining, squabbling and outright fighting would start again.

The Neophytes simply did not _understand_ the new danger presenting itself with Master Ansem as a confirmed moving force in the worlds.  
Hah, good riddance; if it wasn't for the fact they would no doubt drag the rest of them down if captured he'd have happily let them go back to face the masked man.  
He had no doubts whatsoever that whatever the fallen King would do to the Nobodies if they ran into him would make his own execution look like a friendly sing-song around the campfire in comparison.  
Probably quite a suitable end for Axel, actually.

He shuddered at the thought of the fire-wielder, and how he'd allowed himself to let his guard down lately, lulled into a false sense of security after their journeying together in relative peace. Foolish, foolish, he could not allow himself to be caught off guard again.

They had all betrayed him; by ordering him dead, by executing the order, by cheering it on, or by turning their backs, pretending not to see.  
He would not allow them to dispose of him like that again, like so much garbage.  
He'd rather see them all dead first.

Larxene very much hated the forest.

Not only was it _dull_ , just like any other of the stupid forests they'd hiked through. Worse. It was _cold_ , with its never-ending snowfall blurring one's sight and covering the ground with a blanket of the white stuff, several feet thick.  
Alright for Lexaeus and Vexen, maybe, but she was the shortest in the group, and even everyday business like getting to the appointed Ladies' Forest was grueling – not to mention it was _horrible_ going about private matters with snowdrifts reaching high enough to freeze one's special parts.

The finest pieces of doe-meat were also long gone, and they were down to squabbling over leftovers for breakfast, scraping stringy bits of frostbitten meat from bones and hide.

Larxene truly hated the forest, passionately.

She glared at the gloomy Elders across the campfire. Any moment at all someone would raise the question of leaving, again. And just as soon the Elders would close ranks and refuse. Again.

Well, screw democracy.  
If they demanded her to stay one single day longer in this gods-forgotten place, they'd wake in the morning to find their supreme hunter gone. She could open a portal as easily as the next man, and she was getting fed up with both location and company.

Come to think of it, she hated her thick-headed companions about as much as she hated the forest.

Sullenly chewing a leather-like piece of badly cooked meat she tried to procrastinate the need to head off to the Ladies' Forest just a few minutes longer. The cold didn't help with that, either.

Damn the snow, damn the forest, damn the others and damn it all.

Lexaeus patiently trudged through the snow among the desaturated bare trees and weighed-down evergreens.  
He had seen promising tracks in the snow twenty minutes back, but they had crossed rocky terrain, and ironically he'd lost them.

Lack of food was rapidly becoming a problem again, and by now it took virtually nothing to set off the ever-increasing fights and quarrels within the group. They needed more food, soon.  
The bleak world was harsh and unforgiving, however, and aside from deep-frozen rubbery roots that had barely been worth all the effort of excavating there was none to be found.

The merciless climate, lack of food and underlying tensions had brought their party to the breaking point, and more than one member had outright threatened to go off on their own if they didn't leave.  
Logically they must, soon, if they found nothing more to eat. The strain was taking its toll on them all.

 _But…_

But in the last world, they had suddenly found themselves face to face with their once mentor and king.

Master Ansem was very much alive, and finally free from the Darkness – or perhaps not so free. Even from the brief glimpse he'd caught of the man who looked nothing like the King he remembered, it had been clear there was a miasma of darkness clinging to him, a shadow about him that hadn't been there before.

 _Maybe the Darkness finally pierced his heart and turned him into one of us. Oh, my King, what final betrayal you have suffered by our hands…_

His steps faltered slightly and he returned his attention to the snowy grounds before him – the endless expanses of white made his eyes hurt and he squinted to avoid becoming blinded.

Running into the least expected danger of all had been a horrible shock, profound enough to shake even a Nobody to the core. It had been such a very, very close call.

For the hundredth time since their panicked flight he mulled those few precious seconds over. The tall man in red turning, Zexion yelling something he hadn't been able to make out, and how he himself had simply… stood there. As though his body was no longer his to control, even though every part of him screamed to bolt.  
It still _galled_ him, that he, the supposed guardian, had frozen up like a mouse under the serpent's gaze. What good was a guardian who fell short when it really mattered..?

Had it been up him, all would have been lost, then and there.  
But instead…  
 _Marluxia_ of all people. That had been unexpected. Saving not only himself, but all of them; he clearly remembered firm hands tugging him along into the swirling darkness of the portal.  
Quite unexpected, indeed.

Frowning, lost in thought, he almost walked into the prey he'd spent the last hour stalking.

A small fawn with huge frightened eyes stared up at him from a thicket, keeping very still as though hoping the danger would simply go away.

Summoning his tomahawk he nearly allowed himself a sardonic shadow of a smile.  
 _It doesn't work like that, little one. Once darkness has found you, it never goes away. It stays on your track and hounds you down until you give in willingly just so you won't have to run anymore._

Even as the massive weapon begun its downwards sweep he heard a most unpleasant noise behind him; an angry growling snort, and there was a glimpse of huge antlers, sharp pain as cloven hooves slammed into him, more pain, and then darkness.

Damned freezing fucking forest. Marluxia ought to be shot.

Axel had his hands buried as deep as humanly possible in his pockets, and had stolen the Assassin's keffiyeh during an unguarded moment to wrap it several times around his neck like a makeshift scarf. And still he was cold.

This had not been part of the plan.

He scowled and jumped up and down a bit to warm himself.  
Things had been looking up in Twilight Town – and he couldn't shake the feeling he had been so _close_ , so very close, as though he would have found what he was looking for had he only searched the town just one more time…

And then things had gone completely to hell.

The appearance of the creepy man in red had dropped down like a bomb, completely unanticipated – hell, one look at the Elders had made that clear. He hadn't known living skin even _could_ turn such a sick shade of grey.

And even aside from the immediate problems it had presented, like, say, leaving Twilight Town in a rush, and, dunno, ending up in a damned _arctic_ forest, it… _complicated_ things.

Another new, by all accounts very important and dangerous enemy of the founding members of the Organization had entered the stage.  
That was probably bad.  
Xemnas wouldn't like that at _all_.

Oh, he could just see how this one'd go. Finally get rid of a bunch of traitors, and congratulations! Since you already know all about his whereabouts, you're promoted to creepy-guy-in-red watch!  
Sure Twilight Town beat hardcore camping with this bunch of morons, but really…

Really.

He kicked miserably at a tree stump protruding from the snow, then muffled a curse at the pain in his frozen toes.

Looked as though he'd have to tag along yet a while longer, trying to figure out as much as possible about the higher-ups' former king and how it all fitted together before returning back, after all.  
Something about it didn't smell right, there was some serious shit going on there, that much he could tell.

His stomach growled pitifully and he made a face. Great. Cold _and_ hungry.  
They'd all set out to find something edible after the morning's mandatory combined breakfast and quarrel – even Zexion had deigned to try to do some actual work for once and joined in on the hunt.

Nothing yet, though, not even that epileptic rabbit he'd spotted the other day. By now he might just be desperate enough to try and eat it.  
Aside from the doe they'd caught a while back, and that seizuring bunny there'd been no sign of life in the forest whatsoever. Even Marluxia had difficulty conjuring edible plants alive from their deep, frozen slumber, and there were virtually no animals about.

And still those paranoid Elders refused to move.  
Well, _fuck_ it.

He'd just decided to give up and head back when he heard a sniffing, shuffling sound from an almost entirely concealed burrow by the roots of a dead old tree.  
Ah- _hah_. Bunny, anyone..?

Tiptoeing very quietly through the snow he inconspicuously slid over to the tree. On a wordless count to three he plunged forward, shoving both arms deep into the hole and grabbing something small, soft and furry.

" Gotcha!"

His crow of triumph died on his lips as he withdrew his hands to eye his catch, however.

With identical expressions of mutual horror Axel and the skunk stared at each other.

" Oh, shi-…"

There was a quiet poof and a startled squeak, and then a cloud of very small feathers drifted down from above to land on the pristine snow.

Zexion sighed and summoned the copy of his Lexicon back to him. Three sparrows so far, bony ones at that. Not enough for dinner even for _one_ , much less two. Or technically six, if the others needed telling.

They would demand to know, though – the well-kept secret of the impressive storage capacity of his book had caused a downright riot, and now the others were watching him like vultures. As though the contents of _his_ Lexicon was any of their business! He sulkily leafed through the pages, pausing at a spread with magnificent crosshatched illustrations of three very surprised-looking sparrows.

Bah, the things would taste horrible; but they were getting too desperate to afford throwing away any kind of prospective food, no matter how vile.

It was getting increasingly difficult maintaining any kind of control over the group, they wouldn't listen to _reason_ anymore. As long as the Elders had stood united, they had always had majority, but with Axel and Larxene always teaming up and Vexen having proved a volatile ally at best…  
Nothing could be taken for granted anymore.

It rather irked him; Vexen the ungrateful bastard _should_ know his proper place, with his old comrades, and instead he sometimes seemed to vote against them out of sheer spite.

Things were reaching a boiling point, though; the hardships of this world grated on everyone's nerves, and the never-ending heated arguments at mealtimes kept getting worse day by day. The group was disintegrating, falling apart, and already frail alliances with former enemies seemed less reliable than ever.

And those were just the known and present enemies…

He shuddered slightly and dismissed the black leather tome.

He was one of the most rigidly self-disciplined Nobodies of the Organization, always maintaining a detached distance and showing little care or emotion; he knew even Lexaeus often found him hard to read.

And so actual flickers of forgotten feelings clashed painfully with his deepest self; twice in the last months he had been reminded of what genuine terror was like. First when stumbling across the Riku-replica in the basement of Oblivion, and again when standing face to face with his former king only a week or two before.  
He did not at all like it.

Oh, Ansem had all the reasons in the world to want him destroyed.  
Traced all the way back a lot of what had gone wrong all those years ago had begun with him, his insatiable curiosity and relative lack of conscience even then. He'd always been good at finding the right words to gain what he desired; his King had been no more immune to his silver-tongue than anyone else. And encouraged and backed up by even more fervently scientific Even, and by Xehanort, who always had his own motives…  
If you looked far enough back, that's where things had started going wrong, right there.

Because one trait he shared with numbers One and Four was the inability to _let things go_ , not when the answers were so very close. That, and a tendency to justify means with ends.

Well, _that_ particular experiment had certainly blown up in their faces. Hearts. Whatever.

No, it would not be strange at all if Master Ansem desired revenge for everything he had suffered. If he ever caught them, the end wouldn't justify the means. It'd just be the _end_ , and most likely a sticky one.

He remembered the unusual, horrifying feeling of panic, and the distant shock at Lexaeus' frozen, stunned reaction.  
 _I suppose we all fear him in different ways_ , he mused, as he began trudging back towards camp, a few desolate snowflakes floating down from the leaden skies above.

A Nobody had no conscience, no concept of shame or guilt, and yet…  
He knew with utmost certainty that the _hardest_ thing to bear if Ansem the Wise ever found them would not be what unspeakable punishment he came to deal, but to look their betrayed former king and beloved mentor in the eyes.

One could trudge about with snow halfway to the hips, slowly freezing over, fruitlessly chasing squirrels. Or one could remain at camp, dutifully standing to one's elbows in comfortably warm, soapy water.  
Marluxia idly wondered if the others even realized they got the lousier deal.

Of course doing dishes was still far beneath him, but protesting too loudly about it only encouraged the others' taunts and imbecile jokes. A true warrior learned to endure fate's twist with humble dignity, and if doing dishes was to be his burden to bear, he would at least approach it, like everything else, gracefully.  
Besides, the warm water was rather comfortable.

Placing the last spotlessly clean plate on the snow beside him to dry he shook his head slightly – hopefully the others would bring back something to serve on said plates. The few bits and pieces left of the deer-carcass were left only because no-one in their right mind would willingly want to eat them.  
He had cautiously sided with the Elders in their determined resolve to stay in this world so far; he could understand the complicated nuances of a treacherous minion's unwillingness to face their sworn liege - and whatever was dangerous enough to get a reaction like the Elders' out of any Nobody was no doubt worth fearing.

And they _had_ all grown careless.  
Overconfidence had caused their downfall before; the encounter in Twilight Town had been a harsh reminder that they needed to choose their destinations with greater care, and keep their movement and presence in the populated worlds extremely discreet.  
Still…

This could not go on.

They were starving, and it was frankly a miracle no-one had gotten seriously ill or frost-damaged yet. They were down to yelling-fights rather than sensible discussions, Lexaeus and Zexion stubbornly unwilling to even compromise, Axel and Larxene's demands of leaving getting more and more insistent every day. And as for Vexen…

He looked up at the sound of muffled footsteps, then blinked as Lexaeus came limping into a view, stony face even more carefully impassive than usual.

" What in all worlds happened to you..?"

The tall warrior paused, then kept heading for the igloo.

" A minor incident. Nothing to talk about."

He could feel a cruel little grin tug at the corners of his mouth. The man looked as though he'd been mauled by a cranky landslide.

" Not another moose, I hope..?"

" … No."

Just the slightest bit of hesitation before the reply. He slowly arched his eyebrows.

" It _was_ a moose..?"

Lexaeus gave him a steady enough look to make him almost wish he'd stayed silent.

" A stag. I don't want to talk about it."

And wrapping his ragged dignity about him the Silent Hero disappeared into the igloo.  
At least Marluxia had enough self-preservation skills to subdue his laughter until after the man was gone.

Vexen tried to hold his breath as he swallowed a gulp of the unappetizing soup. They'd done what they could with the spices Zexion still carried, but nothing could hide the fact that the watery broth was made from three bony sparrows, four rubbery roots and the rat-like creature he himself had skewered with a well-aimed icicle as he spotted it hanging upside down by its tail from a tree.  
Judging from the taste, he wished he hadn't.

Although admittedly having Axel, no matter how thoroughly scrubbed, nearby didn't help his appetite any. There was still a certain pungent _fragrance_ wafting about the skinny redhead.

The mood around the sputtering campfire was subdued, the calm just before the storm. Or maybe the horrible soup had simply stunned even the whiniest group-members into temporary, disgusted silence.

The sun had set early, choked and overcome by dark, overcast skies. Aside from the small fire, the night was dark and very cold.

" I would like to bring a matter up for discussion," Marluxia calmly stated, resulting in a few outright groans. Usually the fighting only really got started once most of the food was gone.  
The Assassin ignored the outbursts.

" Please hear me out. And kindly _don't_ reject what I'm saying on principle because it is _me_ saying it. Not that you'd ever, of course."  
Vexen rather resented the sardonic tone.

At least Marluxia had had sense enough to leave him alone after the odd midnight conversation a week back. The Assassin's true motives remained unclear, but he'd kept his distance and at most been neutrally polite on the few occasions they'd been forced to cooperate.  
Hell if he could figure out what the bastard was playing at. Impossible man.

" We're not leaving, Marluxia, if that's what you're going to say," Zexion interjected, seemingly relieved with an excuse to lower his mug of soup.

" Oh, come _on_!" Larxene snarled. " Even _you_ must get it into your thick head we can't stay here!"

" Enough, " Marluxia cut her short, holding up a hand for silence. She glared and opened her mouth as though to defy him, but apparently changed her mind and crossed her arms with a huff.

" Fine. But you'd better have something good to say."

He shrugged elegantly.

" All of you hunted all day today. And this," a rather expressive gesture at the greasy, bubbling broth in the pot over the fire, " was all we found. The temperature keeps dropping. We are running low on potions."

" So you _are_ suggesting we leave, then..?" Axel asked. " About bloody time. I thought you were turning into another Saïx, the way you've been bootlicking the Elders these past weeks."

There was the very slightest twitch to the Assassin's eye, Vexen concluded, if you looked for it, and of course you did. The man studiously ignored Axel, however, to elaborate his point. But before he could start, Zexion frowned again.

" Half a vote switching sides changes nothing. We're not leaving."

Another of those minute twitches, and possibly lips pressing together to pale just ever so slightly.

" If you would _kindly_ hear me out."

Yes, definitely a tension to the ground-out words. Certain past insults regarding status apparently still stung.

" Go on," Lexaeus quietly encouraged.

" _Thank_ you. I know several of you are reluctant to leave. I agree with that, to some extent – we must move with greater care from now on. And believe it if you will, I _understand_ how you fear facing your once-king. I have no doubts he is a formidable enemy, and that he has his reasons to wish us all harm. However."

He had their attention now, Vexen noted. It was not without bitterness he recognized that even deprived of power and position, Marluxia still had a mesmerizing charisma that made people _listen_.  
To say he envied it would be foolish. To deny it even more so.

" If we stay here much longer your King's work will be done for him. We will wither away and die here in the snow, as certainly as if we should run into any of our enemies. Possibly a less painful end, but an _end_ nonetheless. And I don't know about you, but I have not traversed the worlds for the past months to just lie down and stop breathing here."

There was a moment of silence as the Neophytes nodded and the others frowned in doubt.

" It's complicated," Lexaeus rumble was rather hushed, even as Axel muttered a silent " Damn right, we should leave".

" Bah," Vexen said out loud, breaking the spell. " That's easy for you to say, Marluxia. You truly have _no idea_ what you're talking about. To enter the Darkness now could mean utter disaster. _Nothing_ is worth that risk."

" No, that's easy for _you_ to say, Vexen!" Larxene hissed, jumping to her feet. " It's all right for _you_ here, you cold-blooded snake! The rest of us are fucking _freezing to death_! Can you even remember what it's like, being cold? Bastard!"

" Oh, shut up, Larxene!" Zexion snapped at her. Axel spat a foul curse, and even Lexaeus' best flinty gaze had no effect whatsoever on the upset Neophytes.

Vexen found Marluxia catching his eye, shooting him an exasperated look, mouthing what looked suspiciously like "Happy now..?", as though the current brawl was _his_ fault.

" Silence!" Lexaeus rasped, loud enough to shut the quarrelling Nobodies up. Glaring darkly at each other they all settled down, though everyone seemed careful to ignore what was left of their food.  
Marluxia pinched the bridge of his nose.

" Fine, fine. Then, _hypothetically_ , when we _do_ leave, where should we go..? Even you have to have realized we can't stay here forever, Zexion, Lexaeus, Vexen. Sooner or later we must move. Perhaps if we can agree on a location, it will be easier to reach a conclusion as to when we should leave as well."

There was a moment of thoughtful silence. Technically it was not a bad idea, and there was a small chance that a new angle could break open the grid-locked discussion.

" Not another forest," Larxene quickly demanded. " I'm so sick of forests it's not even funny."

" Back to London, maybe..?" Axel suggested. " That was a good place, large enough that we could blend in."

" _You_ never blended in anywhere, Axel," Vexen scoffed, but the insult was mechanical and absentminded. " We were still too conspicuous there. If we _should_ leave, we should go someplace we haven't already been."

Zexion was thoughtfully rubbing his chin.

" Never back to Twilight Town. Not Hollow Bastion, either. Nowhere too close to the Darkness. Either another completely unpopulated world, or one with so many people, no-one would take notice of us."

" We could go to one of the Scatters," Axel suggested. " Those bits and pieces of broken worlds that are still scattered about out there? Some of them even still have water and vegetation on them."

They considered this in silence.

" Perhaps not a bad idea," Zexion concluded. " We're not likely to run into anyone there."

" It still means passing through the Darkness," Vexen hissed. " I say it's too dangerous."

" Actually, Larxene had a bit of a point, Vexen," Lexaeus mildly pointed out. " This world _is_ harder on the rest of us than you. If we can find an alternative place, where we can regain our strength in peace, it would be worth the risk of a Corridor. Here, we will eventually die."

" Thank you, Lexie," Larxene smiled sweetly at the large man. " I still don't want to go to another forest, though, no matter if it's on a small chunk of rock in interspace or on another world. There must be other busy places than London we can go to? Some place where even _we_ can remain hidden?"

Axel held his mug in both hands – the soup really tasted like piss, but at least the mug was warm. Gods knew warmth wasn't easy to come by in this place.

" Oh, hell yes, I agree, if the only old geezers could possibly be persuaded. Since they went and lost a lot of our stuff, we need to do more shopping, too."

" I know of a city even larger than London," Marluxia pointed out. " We scouted it for Heartless shortly after I joined the Organization, but it turned out to be a corrupted cesspool all by itself. People look like freaks and act like lunatics."  
A short, sharp smirk.  
" We should fit right in."

" It's still too dangerous to move," Vexen insisted, well aware he was being stubbornly contrary on purpose.

" We'll think about it," Lexaeus sighed, and there was a finality to his tone that firmly ended the discussion for now.  
Very reluctantly they all went back to their servings of lukewarm, musky soup, the silence only broken by the occasional crunching of chewed sparrow.

" What was the city called..?" Larxene leaned over and asked Marluxia, curious. He frowned thoughtfully, tapping his lower lip with his spoon.

" What was it again..? Some sort of fruit. Pear..? No, apple. That's it. The Big Apple."

It was another starless, pitch-black night.  
Snowflakes danced on the wind, still few, but there was a smell of more on the air.

Vexen finished another round and settled down on the convenient rock near the igloo. He _really_ hated these guard-passes, he bitterly concluded, trying to tuck his whipping hair back behind his ears, to no avail. The wind kept picking up. He didn't like the feel of it.

So now even Zexion and Lexaeus had begun to consider leaving. Well, neither of them ever _had_ displayed much backbone.

He shuddered at the thought of plunging blindly through a portal again.

No-one had said it out loud, but it stood to reason that if Master Ansem had gained enough control over the Darkness to break free, it consequently meant he could now wield it as well as they could. Taking his natural excellence into account, maybe even better.

 _That_ was a very frightening thought.

And all these fools seemed willing to risk it because it was a little cold here! If they just _tried_ a bit harder, certainly they could find more food, and if not… Well. Surely anything must be better than risking running into… _him_ again.

He absently brushed a bit more snow off his shoulders.

Zexion and Lexaeus should know better than giving in to the Neophytes' demands; give them an inch and they'd slice it off. And as for Marluxia…  
Well, who the hell knew what _he_ was thinking..? He always had his own treacherous reasons.

There must be some other way.  
Some way to remain hidden, safe. Not having to use the Corridors. Granted, being marooned in this white wasteland was _not_ how he had envisioned spending the rest of his bleak existence, but…  
Considering the alternatives…

He shuddered again, turning up his cowl to stop the gale from stuffing snow down his neck.

There _must_ be some other way!

The igloo had almost vanished under its new coating of snow.  
The wind was solid with snowflakes now, sharp, cold and tangy, the unmistakable scent of an approaching week-long roaring blizzard.

He hid his face in his hands.

There was no more personal space or privacy; at night they threw dignity to the wind and cuddled up tight together under a makeshift cover of blankets and spare clothing, a living, breathing heap of black.

Even tightly, and rather comfortably, lodged between Axel and Marluxia Larxene shuddered in her half-sleep, listening to the muffled howl of the wind outside.

There was a strange rustle of movement by the entrance, and she sleepily pried a suspicious eye open, then sat up abruptly with a startled shriek.  
The snow-monster that had crept up upon them shook off thick drifts of white from sweeping sleeves and coat and gave her a familiar green-eyed glare.

Vexen poked none-too gently at the startled heap with his foot.

" Get up, you idiots. We're leaving."


	42. Chapter 040 – Street Savoir-Faire

Chapter: 040 – Street Savoir-Faire.  
Location: The Big Apple  
Characters: Vexen, Larxene, Lexaeus, Axel, Zexion, Marluxia.  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, for various weapons being waved around.  
Summary: The Nobodies meet the Big Apple. It's a mutual experience. 

**Chapter 040 : The Big Apple – Street Savoir-Faire.**

* * *

The black nexus suddenly sprang into existence, half hidden in the shadows beneath the trees. The six Nobodies exited, blinking in the light from the setting sun. It glittered in the water that stretched out before them, a stark contrast to the dark, cold world they had left behind.

Without any sort of conscious thought, the group huddled together, backs towards each other as they nervously scanned the surrounding area. Trees, more trees: a forest surrounded them, broken only by the paved track they were standing on and the placid lake to one side. A lone squirrel skittered past, eying them suspiciously.

"Well." Zexion was the first one to break the silence. "I must admit the temperature has been drastically improved."

"Speak for yourself." Vexen was evidently in no better mood now than earlier.

"As happy as I am not to be buried in a snowdrift, this is another damn _forest_." Larxene rounded on Marluxia. "You said this was supposed to be a city!"

The Graceful Assassin almost had his old smug look back. "Look higher up."

The others looked up. And up. Over the treetops, to the buildings that touched the sky. Impossible buildings, glass and metal piled up floor after floor until the rooftops seemed to disappear behind the clouds and the windows shone with the reflected sunlight.

"Well damn." Even Axel sounded stunned.

"It's a quite impressive city, all things considered." An unsaid _told you so_ hovered behind Marluxia's words. "No one will ever find us here."

"That may be so." Vexen muttered, squinting into the trees. "But I'll feel safer with walls around me."

Larxene turned slowly in a circle, taking in the outlines of skyscrapers all around them. "It looks almost like the World that Never Was, you know? All those buildings. I wonder if Xemnas has ever been here."

A collective shudder ran though the group.

"Light, better not to speculate in such matters!"

"Relax." Marluxia had a small smile on his face. "Once you see the city itself, you'll never compare it to Dark City again."

They set off down the path, by the curious little houses scattered through the greenery - _why did they build that one to look like a peach pit?_ \- striking for the edge of the great park. The city's citizens were few and far between, hurrying along without meeting anyone's gaze.

"Hey, you, hairdogs! Let's just take this nice'an easy and no one gets hurt."

A gang of rough men suddenly materialized among the trees, waving knives and that looked like small versions of Xigbar's guns. Before the Nobodies could react, though, dark shapes sprang down from the treetops. They landed among the assailants, kicking and striking out with staves, knives and swords. Within a moment, all the thugs were either whimpering on the ground or wisely running for cover.

"Cowabunga, man!" Their saviours gleefully jumped into the air, striking their palms together before running back in among the trees. A faint "You never saw us, dudes!" reached the stunned Renegades before they disappeared.

"Big, talking… turtles?"

"They tried to _rob_ us?"

"I thought this was a human world?"

"It is." Marluxia stared in among the trees. "I have never seen any taking beasts here. And certainly not any that fight like that."

"They tried to rob _us_?"

"Oh, well. At least they left the spoils." Larxene was already busy digging though the pockets of the groaning would-be robbers, who were smart enough to stay still. "What's this?"

Her pillaging had yielded several wallets, along with small boxes connected to headphones and outfitted with buttons. The Elders fingered them with curiosity. A cube covered with bright square patches disappeared down Lexaeus' pocket.

"We'd better leave them." Vexen dropped the box with evident regret. "They might be traceable, after all."

The Nobodies continued down the path into the deepening dusk.

They left the park through a big, elaborate gate and found themselves suddenly standing on a street of a kind they had rarely seen before. Cars went by in dizzying numbers, row after row of them and there were people in numbers that more than enough made up for the few inside the park. Cars honked, rhythmic music pounded from somewhere, tires screeched. The Nobodies' eyes were drawn to a young man that walked by, electric blue hair teased into a lion's mane spilling over his shoulders and striped thighs clinging to skinny legs disappearing down into big, puffy tubes of cloth.

"I have to admit, Marluxia, you may have come with a good suggestion for once. You fit right in." Zexion said sweetly.

Marluxia didn't lower himself to answer.

They had scarcely crossed the street before their next encounter with the locals. A shrill shriek was their only warning before they were surrounded by young, exited girls with hair every shade of the rainbow. The frontrunner clung to Marluxia's arm.

"Oh wow, you are like, _her_! You're the Holograms!"

"…Excuse me?" Marluxia looked wholly confused, staring at the pink haired girl hanging on to him. Come to think of it, Vexen noted, most of these exited youngsters had hair uncanny like Marluxia's.

The girl loosened her grip. "Oh, you're a _guy_." Disappointment dripped from her voice.

The rest of the gang seemed less put down. "Like, oh my God! Your hair is totally awesome!"

"You must be such a fan!" another girl tittered, looking coyly up at Marluxia from underneath her lashes.

"I can't believe I got tickets! I didn't get them last time but now I did!"

"You're going too, aren't you? Jem is so outrageous!"

Marluxia's smile looked just a tiny bit sickly. "Of course. Of course. Hope to see you all there. But now, if you'll excuse me…" Untangling himself from the crowd he hurriedly led the others away, casting bewildered glances over his shoulder.

"What the hell was _that_?" Axel said, laughing.

"I have no idea." Marluxia was still looking over his shoulder, but the group of girls had moved on.

"They seemed to like you," Lexaeus pointed out, his face as neutral as a rock. Marluxia cast him a dour glance, then quickened his step.

The houses surrounding the park were obviously home to the elite, grand and well-kept, and it wasn't hard to make the decision to try and find a more basic neighborhood to find lodgings in. The walls rose high around them as they walked, into neighborhoods that steadily became considerably less glamorous. Larxene watched with amusement as young men in baggy, colorful clothes danced on their heads in the street, twisting and spinning.

Vexen snorted in contempt. "One could think they have caught rabies, the lot of them."

"I'd like one of those," Axel smirked, pointing to the large box blaring out the rhythmical music. "Could make the next forest more interesting."

Zexion rubbed his nose. Leaving the cold world behind had been a great relief for his cold and he already felt much better, but it was hardly something to cherish at the moment. "This place _stinks_ ".

Lexaeus gave him a worried glance, but he shook his head minutely. "Vexen is right. The sooner we find a place to stay, the better."

Marluxia was leading the way down the street, seemingly having recovered his composure, conversing pleasantly with Larxene about his last visit to this world. Vexen fell back, trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and the couple.  
 _Traitorous bastards_.

He was lost in his own bitter thoughts when a rough hand closed around his upper arm and yanked him into an alleyway. "Ok, mister faggy eurotrash, just gimme your wallet."

"Excuse me what now?"

"Hey, I'm warning you! I have a knife!" The hiss was accompanied by a gust of hot, rank breath against his ear and a knife waving in his face. Even if most of the words were incomprehensible, the threat and the insult in them were not. Vexen concentrated to call his shield into being - _I should not have to deal with things like this_ \- when another man stepped into the alley with them.

"Hey, kid. You call that a knife? _This_ is a knife."

The blade the newcomer brandished in his hand was at least the length of his forearm, and the mugger threw just one terrified look at it before scampering back up the alley. Vexen discreetly banished his half-formed shield.

"My thanks, sir. That was very timely."

"No worries, ma'am." The man replied with a smile.

Throwing one last suspicious look at the man, his knife and the animal teeth decorating his person, Vexen stepped out to join the other who had paused a few steps up the street, looking back.

"Trouble?" Lexaeus rumbled, taking half a step back towards the alley.

"Nothing to worry about," Vexen assured him, brushing down his robe. "Just another robber."

"That's not fair, I want a chance at them!"

"What is it with this town and robbers?" Zexion wondered out loud.

"This place _is_ strange. Was it like this during your last visit too, Marluxia?"

"Yes. Don't ask me how it keeps from being swallowed by the Darkness, given the level of filth here. I suppose there must be something else leveling it out, or something similar… Xigbar had some theories." Marluxia shrugged. "Doubtlessly it will fall sooner or later. It's rotten."

"A rotten apple, eh?" Larxene looked around. "It's perfect."

The city seemed to go on forever, and they finally succumbed to their hunger by stopping by one on the countless food carts dotting the street and gorging themselves on sausages in buns while listening to the seller's endless tirade over the traffic, the rising prices and the street dogs, apparently more brazen for every day that passed.

"...and what about me, I wonder? Here I am, cutting me own throat over every hotdog I sell, with these new prices on meat… only the best meat, I insist, not grizzle for my sausages!"

Zexion did his best to nod understandingly with his mouth full of sausage. "Mumhp."

The seller sighed deeply, then yowled and waved his arms as a small, flea bitten dog with a notch in his ear landed on his face, dragging his cap down over his eyes. Other dogs, one with a red scarf and one, bizarrely, with eyeshadow, bounded up, grabbing the flying sausages in the air and disappeared around a corner.

The Nobodies made a hasty retreat.

By now the sun had set completely beyond the facades, leaving the streets lit by neon signs and streetlights. The Nobodies walked still, doggedly refusing to stop before they all felt they had put enough distance between themselves and the park. They didn't walk unchallenged, though.

"Sorry about that, miss," the man in the baggy jumpsuit and strange backpack said, offering Larxene a handkerchief. "They get a bit… slimy sometimes."

His three compatriots, currently manhandling the shaking black box into the car, all nodded.

"You don't say," Larxene answered sweetly, green slime dripping from her soggy tresses. "Tell me, are your ghosts sensitive to electricity around here?"

"What?"

"How about we find out?"

"It's really time for us to leave. Good bye." Lexaeus grabbed hold of Larxene's shoulder and forcibly turned her around. She hissed angrily.

"He slimed all over me, the bastard!"

"None of that now. Let's just find a hotel." Vexen hissed back, grouchy after hours of walking.

At least they had finally left the posh neighborhoods well behind them by now. The houses around them still reached for the sky, but fell short by rather a larger margin than the ones around the park. The colorful scrawling on the walls was more plentiful, the smell even worse.

Axel yawned. "For once, I'm with mister Icicle here. Let's just find somewhere to crash, right?"

They had barely turned the corner before they spotted it; a few houses away; the welcoming glow of a neon sign reading _Burch Tower Hotel_.

It turned out to be a quiet and respectable place, if modest. The lobby was large and well lit, opening up into a small bar and restaurant to one side. There was even a large bouquet on the desk. The desk clerk was discreetly doubtful to their appearance.

"I'm afraid we do not allow loud music in our hotel, sir."

"Loud music?" Lexaeus gave her a perplexed look. "Why would we…?"

"Well, you _are_ a band, aren't you? I must say I rather like your costumes." The clerk was not old, and now she smiled slightly.

"Ehh… of course. A band. But I assure you, we won't sing in the hotel."

"We don't even have our instruments, lady," Axel cut in with a smile.

"Oh, that's right! I'm so sorry." The young woman blushed. "So what is your band name?"

"Our name?" Lexaeus' face looked slightly panicked as his mind raced. "The… Merry Traveling Minstrels?"

The clerk's face went blank for a moment, making Lexaeus wince. But then she split up into a wide grin.

"Sweet! That's radical! Way cool!"

"…Thank you?"

The Nobodies had huddled up near the elevator to discuss the room distribution. It turned out to be anything but a smooth affair. As usual.

"I am _not_ sharing a room with him!"

"Vexen, be reasonable. After all, you two shared a room in Twilight Town…"

"We didn't even get to see that room!"

"But the principle is still sound." Now Zexion was smirking openly.

"It's hardly our fault," Larxene said as she leaned back on Axel. "You two just happen to be left over when everyone else have made their choices."

Vexen fumed. "Principles be damned, I will not lower myself to share a room with that flower-stinking traitor!"

That brought a wince from Marluxia. "Can't we try and be reasonable? If Vexen resents it so much, let him have his own room."

"Sure, if you are willing to sleep in the hallway." Axel was grinning too, earning him another of Vexen's murderous glares.

Larxene smiled her sweetest smile. "Aww, I can be reasonable. I will share with Marluxia, and you can have Axel. What do you say, Vexen?"

The Academic hissed. "That's out of the question!"

"Then I must say you have made your choice." Lexaeus said, a tone of finality in his voice.

Vexen snarled and stomped off up the stairs, ignoring the sniggers and titters behind his back. Marluxia sighed. "Give me the key, or he'll lock me out the entire night."

"Oh, and we don't want _that_ , do we?"

Gritting his teeth, Marluxia followed Vexen's example and ignored the taunts as he followed Number Four up the staircase.


	43. Chapter 041 – Gratuitous (XXX)

Chapter: 041 – Gratuitous. (XXX)  
Location: The Big Apple  
Characters: Marluxia, Vexen.  
Rating/Warnings: MA, NC-17? All that hardcore, graphic gaysmut you've been waiting for, my lovelies.  
Summary: Yeah, because like the rating didn't give it all away. Vexen and Marluxia share a room. Stuff happens.  
Author's Note: Yay, a mid-week chapter, just like the old days! Because it was done early and is fairly short. 

**Chapter 041 : The Big Apple – Gratuitous. (XXX)**

* * *

He had not remembered the city to be quite so overwhelming, Marluxia had to admit to himself as he unlocked the door, ignoring his would-be roommate's silent fuming nearby. Then, the knowledge that one could freely use one's powers for attack and defense - or open a corridor out of a place at any time - did wonders for one's sense of self-assurance.

An assurance that might be considered if not lacking, then at least slightly dented these days.

As he opened the door and dumped his bag on the floor inside he resisted the urge to wince. The universe seemed out to make this day as miserable on him as possible – there was only one bed. A decently sized bed, granted, but still, only one bed.  
Sharing was unlikely - somehow even the smart click of the closing door behind him conveyed Vexen's displeasure with the situation.  
He vaguely wondered if the grubby carpet was soft enough to sleep on, and whether that could be made _Vexen's_ problem without _his_ problem suddenly being an overwhelming risk of getting icicled in his sleep.  
Probably not.

He turned with a resigned wry smile to suggest they take turns-  
- _and suddenly there were unyielding, bony hands tangling in his robes, hard hungry lips crashing against his, green green green eyes, the world spinning, and then he found himself pinned against the wall, locked in the sweetest bitter kiss…_

With a very muffled sound of surprise he blinked, but his own body was already responding, without waiting for him to catch up. He opened his mouth, ravenous, accepting the challenge, and his hands fell to those tantalizing hips on their own accord, clenching down, jerking the thin body closer.  
Vexen growled muffled foul curses into the kiss, but he recognized the gleam in the green eyes now, bitter resentment and insatiable desire, and he gasped, gone from tired and testy to throbbing with lust in only a few seconds.

Hell if he'd ever figure the capricious man out!  
Hell if he cared, right here and now, with those determined hands impatiently tugging at his silken robes.

"I seem to recall," he panted, as they finally broke apart, staring at each other and breathing heavily, "that you owe me one from the forest next to last."

Vexen sniffed, and the way his ruffled hair fell across his face was impossibly enticing.

"If you feel like doing all the work, I won't stop you. Dog."

He snorted at the insult and braced against the wall to send the taller man staggering back unsteadily in the general direction of the bed. The untied oriental sash and silky robes were left behind as he followed, sliding off his shoulders into a puddle of inky black on the floor.  
Another measured shove and Vexen was on his back on the bed, reaching up for him as he knelt beside him, pulling him down for another spiteful, glorious kiss.

Even as he sucked hard enough to leave bruises on the other man's slender throat a thought struck him.  
"You locked the door..?" he managed between nipping kisses along a defined collarbone. Vexen huffed and tugged none too gently at his hair.  
"Of course. I'm not Lexaeus."  
He chuckled quietly, unzipping black leather robes in a single graceful gesture.  
"Ah, no. Definitely not."  
With a mutual effort of complicated shrugs and jerks Vexen's robes were discarded and unceremoniously dumped on the floor without them having to break off the next asphyxiating kiss.  
Even in his rather one-tracked state of mind he couldn't help but notice the past weeks' near starvation had had a visible impact on the already bony man. No less desirable, possibly a bit more easily breakable.

Probably best to carefully inspect the state of those irresistible hips as well, he concluded, almost ripping the cloth of Vexen's pants in his impatience.  
"You tear them and I'll shred all your clothes," Vexen hissed, tugging his gloves off with his teeth.  
A harsh bite at a pale rosy nipple made him arch his back and suck in air between his teeth, temporarily silenced.

Finally unbuttoning the annoying garments Marluxia tugged them down to reveal pale wide hips with curving hipbones defined even more magnificently from the recent lack of food.

He ghosted his hand over soft golden hair and an already beautifully hard arousal, wishing to take his time exploring all the freshly bared skin, but his own painful need was rapidly becoming a serious distraction. Hopefully there would be time, plenty of time, later.

Somehow he managed to wriggle out of his own remaining clothes with preserved elegance, and proceeded to tug at the scientist's boots to finally be able to get those pants off, to spread those long, slender legs wide open.  
"Oh, stop that," Vexen hissed, a note of reflected impatience in his husky voice, and simply rolled over on knees and elbows, demonstrating that boots and pants need not at all be a problem when you're in a hurry, if only approaching the challenge from a suitable angle.  
And what an angle…

Marluxia allowed himself a few precious seconds to admire the view before draping himself possessively across his lover's back.  
"And you call _me_ a dog..?" he murmured teasingly into a most lickable ear, forestalling a furious reply by shoving two saliva-slick fingers deep inside the man beneath him.  
The sputtered words of offended outrage died on Vexen's lips, fading into a most rewarding moan, and the thin man arched his back, his muscles squeezing Marluxia's fingers lovingly.

He bit his lip at the sensation even as certain parts of his anatomy pointed out it was in no way _fair_ his fingers were having all the fun when other bits and pieces deserved the attention.

Pumping his fingers slowly in and out, Marluxia tormented a tempting earlobe with his teeth.  
"No lubrication," he murmured as he finally withdrew and positioned himself properly. " This is probably going to hurt."  
Vexen glanced over his shoulder, smoldering eyes half-hidden under heavy lashes.  
"Good," he breathed, and very nearly whimpering Marluxia threw self-control to the wind and slammed deep inside.

Vexen cried out, but pushed back against him until he was fully buried, and it was simply _impossible_ to believe it had been _months_ since the last time. Withdrawing fully he thrust deep again, drawing another of those rewarding pained groans from the once so proud man.

Shaking his hair out of his face he slid his slightly callused fingers down Vexen's back to grab a bruising hold of those most magnificent hips for leverage.  
He thrust again and again, finding a deep, hard rhythm.

It was rough and dirty and wonderful, lovingly hateful and coarse.

Vexen writhed and moaned beneath him like a cat in heat, and he clenched down his fingers even harder, smirking at the resulting protesting groans from the man. Ah, there'd be the loveliest bruises…

Vexen climaxed first, it didn't take long.  
Eyes fluttering shut, teeth bared, he clenched his quivering hands into the sheets until his knuckles shone white, coming messily over the bedspread, his muscles convulsing most wondrously. Gracious, Marluxia granted him a few shallower thrusts' respite before resuming his rhythm, certainly nowhere near done.

Spreading his legs as far as the constricting pants allowed Vexen muttered a feeble curse, beckoning him even deeper inside. He was certainly all too happy to oblige. His beloved scientist could be delightfully willing when caught in the right mood, and these days such moods were far enough between they should be treasured to the fullest.  
Feeling his own release approach he changed his angle, watching in fascination and slight envy as Vexen was caught by the second wave, flushed, disheveled and irresistible. Even as the man shivered uncontrollably his eyes closed and his brow furrowed, lower lip caught between his teeth, as though completely concentrated on some unsolvable dilemma, trying to hold down and analyze something utterly ethereal.

A warm-and-cold flutter spread from the pit of his stomach and he groaned, pressing himself deep inside, then deeper still, shuddering, to spill his seed inside his lover, where he belonged.  
Staked, claimed.  
Owned.

They remained frozen for the full eternity of a few seconds before he dragged Vexen down into an entangled, graceful collapse on the messy bed.

There was a certain pleasure in the ordinary act of breathing, one realized when one had forgotten to for a little while. The focused expression was gone from Vexen's face, frown smoothed into rare peace.

He rested his chin on a shoulder cushioned with blond hair, noting again how oddly comfortable the bony frame could be when utterly relaxed like this. He pulled the man closer, nuzzling an unusually rosy cheek, earning himself a sleepy glare.  
" _That_ , my love," he mumbled softly, "has been worth waiting for."  
The glare intensified before being put out by haughtily closing eyelids.

"Oh, shut up, Marluxia," Vexen muttered, but he leaned back against him and gave an inaudible and not entirely discontented sigh.


	44. Chapter 042- Patience (XXX)

Chapter: 042- Patience (XXX).  
Location: The Big Apple  
Characters: Zexion, Lexaeus  
Rating/Warnings: NC-17. Sex. Woohoo!  
Summary: Ahahahahah. Pr0n. All good things come to those who wait, and Zexion and Lexaeus will wait no longer. 

**Chapter 042 : The Big Apple – Patience.**

* * *

Zexion sat down on the bed as the hotel room door closed with a soft "click". He didn't have to look up to know that Lexaeus was watching him. He briefly rubbed his nose, took an experimental sniff and sighed. "It's strange," he said, rubbing his nose again. "I'm so very used to have an oversensitive nose. I suppose, at the moment, I can only smell as well as a so-called normal person."

"Still not feeling entirely better?" A large hand fell on his shoulder, and Zexion closed his eyes, relaxing back against the broad chest that presented itself so nicely as Lexaeus settled himself down beside him.

"No, not one-hundred percent, certainly," Zexion agreed, rubbing one side of his nose. "But much better."

"How much better," and Zexion could _feel_ the rumble of Lexaeus' voice, deep in his chest. He fought down a smirk.

"Why, are you worried about my personal well being? I'm quite honestly flattered."

The hand slid from his shoulder, down his arm to capture a wrist that seemed slender and breakable even by a normal-sized man's standards. "We are alone," Lexaeus rumbled, giving the wrist the slightest of squeezes. "The door is locked."

"So it is," Zexion dropped his voice to a purr, shifting to face his lover. "Which… is a very good thing indeed."

He closed his eyes, sighing as Lexaeus' free hand came up to cup his chin, fingers stroking lightly. "I do not like it when you are ill," Lexaeus murmured, eyes dark and fathomless. "I'm glad you're recovering well."

Zexion chuckled, tangling a hand in the Silent Hero's shirt and drawing him closer. "I wasn't on the edge of death, Lexaeus. It was just a little cold, annoying, but nothing too severe. You worry far too much."

"Hn." Lexaeus' expression turned inward, thoughtful, for a moment, his fingers absently still caressing the smaller Nobody's jaw. "Perhaps," he finally said, gaze focusing back on Zexion with a sudden sharpness. "But still."

"Yes, yes of course," Zexion shook his head, hiding a smile. "I'll be more careful in the future, Lexaeus. You have my word."

"Good," Lexaeus, pleased with the declaration, nodded. His hand dropped from Zexion's chin, down his neck, to lightly tug the zipper of his coat down. Zexion closed his eyes again, delighting in the sensations. Lexaeus could easily snap his neck with one hand- hell, probably with only a finger or two. Yet he did not, _would_ not, because _Zexion_ would not let him.

 _Hm. 'Twas beauty killed the beast, isn't that how the line goes? Famous, famous line, it is._ Zexion tilted his head back a little more, shivering as Lexaeus' lips trailed over newly-bared flesh. "Ah."

It seemed to take forever for the coat to actually be drawn down and off. Ever-impatient, Zexion tangled a hand in Lexaeus' hair, giving a short, but sharp tug. Lexaeus ignored him save for his hand leaving Zexion's zipper and grabbing his hand, detangling it from his hair and pulling it down to his own coat.

"You counsel patience as often as I," Number Five rumbled, meeting Zexion's gaze firmly. "Are you so unwilling to follow your own advice?"

"It's been _weeks_ ," Zexion groaned, writhing briefly, before a squeeze to his hip made him freeze. "Weeks, I say."

"Yes, and we are alone," Lexaeus agreed. "We will be alone for several hours, perhaps all evening… I believe we have plenty of time, Zexion… and I say we will be patient."

Zexion couldn't stop a faint shudder from passing through him. While he was in charge of things roughly ninety-nine percent of the time, the one percent that Lexaeus took charge of was always… intoxicating, somehow.

 _Sometimes, the loss of control can be… so delightful._

Zexion had not lost control since the Riku Replica. That had been anything but pleasurable. Since then, he had fought tooth and nail to keep control over anything he could, and things had always seemed to spiral away from him.

Now he could safely- so safely, for Lexaeus would never harm him- place the world in those huge hands and the weight could be removed from his shoulders, if only for an hour or so.

 _This…_ this _is what I need._

He swallowed a groan as Lexaeus finally pushed his coat from his shoulders, hands sliding down his chest, up his sides, down his back, to repeat the process over and over again, merely touching, _feeling_ , as only Nobodies could feel. Zexion found his own hands pressing to Lexaeus' chest, pulling the zipper down, eagerly darting inside the supple leather to splay over the broad muscles that rippled under his touch. _Yes. Oh, yes._

Teeth brushed his ear, and he _did_ groan, tilting his head to allow Lexaeus more room to maneuver. "Lexaeus."

"Patience," Lexaeus rumbled, biting a little harder, coaxing another groan from his throat. "We have time."

"But I… need…" Zexion trailed off, biting his lip, almost breaking the skin as Lexaeus' fingers brushed down his hips and thighs, so tantalizingly close to where he so desperately wanted to be touched, and yet so terribly far away…

 _Dammit,_ I'm _the tease, here, not you…_

For an instant, he thought about turning the tables on the larger man, summoning a clone and pouncing on him from behind.

 _Hn. No, he might… punish me for that._

That only made him consider it even more, and he was distracted enough, toying with the idea, to jerk and groan as Lexaeus lightly palmed him through his pants, pants that were suddenly _far_ too constricting. "Lehx-" he managed to gasp, and shuddered as Lexaeus _finally_ drew the zipper of his pants down, allowing his erection to spring free.

"Hm," Lexaeus made an odd sound in the back of his throat, and Zexion finally focused on his face, and tried to feel outrage that such a scientific expression was on the Silent Hero's face. But then a large hand closed around him and stroked slowly, gently, and he forgot about feeling angry and just closed his eyes, arching his hips.

"Lexaeus," he gasped, and shivered at the sound of his own voice, breathless and desperately needy. _Ruining my image._

Lexaeus merely chuckled, finishing pulling the Schemer's pants completely off, trailing his fingers up his legs briefly before pulling away to finish undressing himself. Zexion sat up and took notice- he _always_ enjoyed watching Lexaeus undress, if for the sole reason that the man's body was a work of _art_ , chiseled muscle, pale skin like marble, marred by faint scars of battles won and lost. He was downright _beautiful_ , and more importantly, he was _entirely_ Zexion's. That was understood by all.

 _Well. Except perhaps Larxene. She needs a lesson in manners, and a lesson reminding her that Lexaeus is mine._

Smirking to himself, he leaned up into a searing kiss from the larger Nobody. For as slowly as he was moving, it was evident from his naked form just how much he desired Zexion, and how badly he needed this.

 _Just as badly as I do…_

He settled back as a gentle hand on his shoulder pressed him back. The bed wasn't entirely _too_ comfortable, but it _was_ a bed, a real bed, with real pillows and real blankets, and it wasn't a scratchy cot in some backwards town, but a _bed_ with a _mattress_ and _pillows_ and the door was _locked_ , damn it, and if _anyone_ interrupted, Gods help them, they would be on a one-way trip to the land of nightmares courtesy of his Lexicon…

He groaned as Lexaeus pulled away entirely, vanishing into the bathroom. "Get _back_ here, Lexaeus, and _finish_ this," he croaked, half-sitting up.

The Silent Hero rattled around in the bathroom a moment before stepping back out. "As you said, it's been weeks," he pointed out, amused. "I highly doubt you'll want me to take you without suitable preparation."

Zexion bit his tongue, sighing. "You're right," he sighed, giving into the inevitable. Lexaeus was simply not going to be goaded into quickly relieving the pent-up lust that plagued them both. He slumped, going limp, spreading himself out invitingly, a last gasp to goad Lexaeus into a frenzy. "You're… absolutely right."

He watched in delight as muscles stood out in Lexaeus' arms, and he almost crushed the bottle of lotion he held in one hand. He crossed the room swiftly, but, much to Zexion's hidden disappointment, did little more than lean down and kiss him roughly and thoroughly.

He shifted, shivering as Lexaeus poured the lotion out on his hand and slid slick fingers up Zexion's thigh. "I intend to feel every inch of you," the Silent Hero promised, his voice deeper and raspier than usual. "And you will feel all of me…"

Zexion felt heat flood his body despite the cold lotion. "Yes," he agreed breathlessly. "Oh, yes. Lexaeus…" he trailed off, swallowing any words as Lexaeus pressed one long finger into him. If he wasn't careful, he was going to start babbling, and the Powers only knew what that would end up in…

Lexaeus stretched him gently, taking his time, watching his expression and the subtle nuances that indicated that the Cloaked Schemer was slowly relaxing. He persisted with the gentle, teasing touch until Zexion finally broke, fingers digging into the sheets.

"Lexaeus. _Please_."

Zexion looked down and shuddered at the heat held within Lexaeus' gaze. Without another word the Silent Hero slid up, pulling his hand away, positioning himself quickly and thrusting in as slowly as he could manage. Zexion's knuckles whitened, but he remained relaxed, closing his eyes and moaning at the feel.

 _Every inch…_

Lexaeus held himself still for several gut-wrenching moments, letting Zexion not only adjust, but _feel_ , truly feel so _full_ and stretched. He ignored Zexion's commands, then pleas, to move, ignored the blunt nails raking at his arms. He moved when _he_ was ready, grinning an almost feral grin at the choked wail that left Zexion's lungs when he finally began to roll his hips in a steady, slow manner.

He forced the pace to be slow, kept Zexion's hips relatively still, and controlled the pace utterly. By the time he had one hand on Zexion's weeping cock to stroke him, the smaller Nobody barely had the breath to moan.

He kept stroking, gritting his teeth and watching Zexion teeter on the edge, then happily fling himself over, eyes falling shut and crying out as his long-awaited release finally washed over him.

Glassy blue eyes opened, blinked once. The Schemer's hair was matted to his forehead, completely obscuring his view from his left eye. "Mm? Lexaeus?"

Teeth gritted, the Silent Hero leaned down and nuzzled his ear, rocking his hips again. "I am not finished with you," he rasped. "I told you, we have all evening. We are going to take advantage of it."


	45. Chapter 043 – Streets of Gold

Chapter: 043 – Streets of Gold.  
Location: The Big Apple  
Characters: Vexen, Larxene, Lexaeus, Axel, Zexion, Marluxia.  
Rating/Warnings: G.  
Summary: New York is a city of possibilities, for those who are willing to reach out and take them. 

**Chapter 043 : The Big Apple – Streets of Gold.**

* * *

Bright light assaulted the narrow gap in the curtain and fell in a long line over the floor. It fell across the face of the blond Nobody asleep on the bed and gradually awakened him from his well-earned rest.

Vexen blinked awake, squinting in the bright light. Light? For a short moment confusion set in. Had it finally stopped snowing? Then the warmth of the room and the feeling of sheets under his cheek brought him back to the present.

Sadly, it also brought him back to the pink haired man snoring away beside him.

 _I need to think._

Marluxia was mumbling something in his ear, still mostly asleep. Hissing, Vexen swatted away the hand resting on his hip and sat up. His boots were still on, his pants tangled around his knees.  
 _Sweet Darkness, what has become of me?_.

There was no way one could gracefully sweep away with one's pants down, so he gritted his teeth and rose stiffly to his feet, dragging his clothing in place and stalked off into the bathroom before Marluxia awoke enough to say something.

Once safe behind the locked door, he collapsed against the wall with a groan. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._. After all this time, after everything that had happened, he had fallen back into the trap with nary any effort on Marluxia's part. How could he be so weak? The man truly had him caught, like a fly in a net.

Looking up, he caught his own reflection in the mirror; the sallow, thin face under the dishevelled hair seemed to stare at him accusingly. He gave it a wry smile. "Not much to look at, is it? Just a desperate old fool of a man."

And foolish was truly what he was. The Assassin in the bedroom outside had demonstrated his treacherous side oh so very thoroughly. And yet Vexen returned to him, like a moth to the flame. And for what? Release? Pleasure?

In the bright light of morning, the achievements of the previous night seemed meagre at best.

A night of sex with Marluxia. A man. A coupling that was fruitless in more ways than one. Doubtless the other was laughing right now, pleased with how very easy Vexen was to break. How he had been unable to resist.

"You're a pathetic old man."  
His mirror image did not deign that with a reply.

The click of the bathroom door finally brought Marluxia out of his slumber. Looking around, Vexen was nowhere to be found, but the warm sheets and the rumpled robe on the floor assured he was not far away. Groaning, Marluxia let his head sink back down among the pillows.

 _Stupid!_. Didn't he possess a single ounce of self control? As soon as Vexen deigned to lower himself to show some interest - _admittedly, that was_ some _interest_ \- Marluxia responded like a trained dog, eagerly leaping to his bidding. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ The bony old man apparently had him neatly wrapped around his little finger.

His only consolation was that the man probably didn't even realize it. He wasn't entirely sure whether that made things better or worse.

He could hear water start running on the other side of the door, and ruthlessly squashed the little thought that wondered whether Vexen might like some company in there. That pale body, all sharp angles, lather and water caressing the smooth skin…

Cursing, he rose and attempted to find his things in the heaps of clothing and gear on the floor.

At last Vexen emerged, all chilly dignity and ice, and began to gather his clothes off the carpet. Marluxia didn't dare to risk the fragile peace with questions and slipped into the bathroom as soon as he was able. He badly needed a shower.

At least Vexen was stiffly polite as they both went down for breakfast. The others were already gathered around a table, digging into heaped plates.

"Try the eggs," Larxene said around a mouthful of sausage, "they're delicious."

And they were. Both Vexen and Marluxia paused for a moment to stare at the breakfast buffet, plates and bowls spread out in a display of plenty they had not seen in a long, long time. As they all stuffed themselves at the table, Lexaeus brought up the plans for the day.

"We need to buy more supplies," the large man rumbled over his teacup.

The others nodded. "I'll make a list," Vexen offered, digging his notebook out of his pocket. "And this time, let us be more vigilant."

The store was _large_. Enormous. Not even the department store in London could hold a candle to its size, though it was found rather lacking when it came to gilded pillars, uniformed doormen and marble floors.

The Nobodies spread out among the aisles, filling their baskets and marvelling at the offerings.

Axel had quickly found the hair care department. The different cans and bottles promised spikes for the rest of eternity, if only he could be bothered to lug them around. Well, one might as well try them out…

"Hey! Look at me!"

Zexion gave the multihued hairdo and its grinning owner a disgusted look.

"Frankly, Axel, it was better red. Green and purple glitter paint does not become you."

"Oh, like you're the fashion expert all the sudden."

Still grinning, Axel walked off to find a more approving audience. Zexion shook his head and sighed.

"Do we have everything on our list?"

Lexaeus nodded and held up a pot of pale, shining metal. Zexion checked it on the scrap of paper. "Only ourselves left, now. They must have bags here somewhere."

They did, a few aisles away. Bright colours were evidently the flavour of the day, as most of the bags could easily do additional service as stop signs. Lexaeus winced.

"At least they appear to be sturdy. And lightweight."

Zexion nodded. "There is something to be said for a world civilised enough for scientific breakthroughs. I'm grateful they have discovered aluminium. Not to mention running water."

In the end, they settled for a large, robust backpack for Lexaeus, with zippers and a colour scheme that suggested the designer hailed from Disney castle. Zexion choose a rather smaller pack. At least those came in black. They found no new blankets, only poofy, larvae-like sacks in even more hideous colours. They would serve their purpose, though.

Axel, meanwhile, had found Larxene, who appeared twirling around the corner, giggling girlishly.

"Do you like it?"

Her face was powdered in chalky white, with red spots on her cheeks and purple glittery eye shadow on her eyelids. Eye shadow that continued all the way up to her eyebrows, to complement the screamingly pink lips and the upstanding shock of hair.

Axel laughed. "We match!" Catching her around the waist, he gave her a whirl as she giggled and tugged at his hair, just a bit too hard. "Where did you find all this?"

"There's a demonstration table over in the cosmetics aisle," she said, wrapping one arm around his waist as they drifted along the shelves, "They had all kinds of stuff to try."

Vexen put down the last bottle of shampoo in his basket and checked his list. Almost done.

He turned the corner and found himself faced with a floor-to-ceiling display of… lotions and baby oils. Shelves full of them. Trying hard not to think of the reason, he picked one up and read the label. _Smooth and supple skin_. Well, he _was_ rather sore and stiff this morning. Not that he'd ever let it happen again, but it wouldn't hurt to prepare for any… eventualities. He read on. _Menthol._

Shuddering, he quickly put the bottle back and stepped along the shelf. There must be at least some without the stuff in them. He was so concentrated on the display, he almost walked into Marluxia.

The Assassin jumped, evidently just as engrossed as the other in the text on the backside of a bottle. A faint blush spread over his cheeks. Coughing uncomfortably, Vexen quickly looked away.

"My hands are dry," the younger man mumbled vaguely. "It's all this dishing."

"Of course."

They stood like that for a moment, determinedly staring right ahead. Finally Vexen broke the silence.

"So... was that one any good?"

"Well, it smells rather nice."

Vexen sniffed the air. "That stink of overly sweet flowers?"

"There is nothing wrong with flowers." Marluxia sounded sulky.

"Apart from being large gaudy sexual organs, you mean?"

"I thought we were talking about the scent, here."

"I want no part of my body to smell like I rolled around in a rosebush and you shouldn't either."

Marluxia reluctantly returned the bottle. "Suggest something better, then."

Vexen scanned the shelves. "How about this one? Extra moisturizing oil, no menthol…"

"There's a derangedly grinning baby on the bottle."

"So?"

"So? I don't want any baby even remotely involved in… my dry hands."

"You're such a prude."

Marluxia turned to give Vexen an incredulous look. " _I_ am a prude? Compared to you? Vexen, you _have_ to be kidding."

The scientist fired off his best savage grin, giving Marluxia a look that made him swallow thickly and bite the inside of his lip, but he put the bottle back on the shelf. Marluxia quickly picked up another.

"No babies, no flowers, no interesting ingredients."

Vexen picked the bottle out of his hands. " _Makes your child's skin as soft and smooth as only a newborn's can be._ Not only are you deficient in length and girth, now you want your… _hands_ to be smooth as a baby's bottom too?"

It was interesting to see Marluxia go deathly pale and flaming red at the same time, cheeks burning under the pink hair. Vexen smirked. "Excellent choice. Shall we move on?"

Putting the bottle in his full basket, he strolled down the aisle, letting the hissing Marluxia bring up the rear.

There was a small scene by the register as they portioned out their new purchases.

"Really, Zexion, it's not much to ask for. And you _are_ voted down two against three and a half."

The other glared sullenly up at Vexen. "I don't want to carry all these things."

Marluxia tried to use his most reasonable voice. "It's not heavy. And there's no risk you'd somehow leave it behind if we have to run, is there?"

Zexion and Lexaeus locked eyes for a short second before Lexaeus nodded slightly. Grumbling, Zexion picked up the bag and summoned his Lexicon, discreetly letting canned food, jerky and bags of dried fruit tumble down into the pages along with potions, matches and other useful bits and pieces.

"Do you even feel the weight of it in there?" Vexen asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

Zexion finally shut the book with an irritated snap. "Yes. Of course, not like carrying the things in the ordinary fashion, but it is straining in other ways."

"I can take part of it," Lexaeus offered.

"Isn't that a bit contrary to the purpose?" Larxene asked, already hugging her full paper bag.

Zexion shook his head. "She's right. I'll manage."

They all cast vary glances at the shadows once they left the store, the Elders in particular nervous about being out and exposed in the light of day among so many strangers. All it would take was one pair of hostile eyes…

"Say, Zexion, how is that cold coming along?" Vexen asked.

The Schemer rubbed his nose. "Better, but not good, yet. Thank you for asking."

The scientist ignored the sarcastic tone. "So no smell of anything… noteworthy?"

Shrugging uncomfortably, the smaller man cast another glance over his shoulder. "I haven't smelled any Darkness. But who knows what could hide in the stink of this place?"

The Neophytes were less nervous. Axel and Larxene were still rampaging around, laughing and jesting as they walked along. With their new looks, they blended in remarkably well in the street.

"Can't you two cut it?" Evidently Marluxia was still stinging from Vexen's remark in the store, the scientist noted smugly.

"Now you're boring again, dear," Larxene pouted. "And as you brought the subject up, what are the plans for the rest of the day?"

"Returning to our rooms, I suppose, and pack away all this new gear."

"Lexie, dearest, you are _such_ a bore."

Still, the antics of the youngest pair seemed to affect even the Elders, who stopped to jump at shadows quite so often and relaxed slightly.

"This is not a bad world, despite the smell… and the music… and the way some people dress. It's certainly a good place to blend in." Zexion mused.

Vexen nodded. "And the King would _hate_ this place, he was never one for crowds."

The other two nodded. Lexaeus shifted his new backpack on his shoulders.  
"This is well-made. Certainly much more comfortable than the one from London."

"What do I hear? Are our dear Four to Six actually being _positive_? I don't believe it!"

The Elders gave the grinning Nymph exasperated looks. "We are just being realistic, you know."

"Sure, whatever you say. But you have to admit, we're doing good now. Real experts at being on the run! I mean, did we ever realize the value of dried fruit before?"

Vexen rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged on his lips. "Yes, Xaldin was definitely on to something there."

Lexaeus closed the door behind him with a sigh of relief and shrugged the backpack off his back.

"So relieved at finally being alone?" Zexion asked.

"Not as much the company as the rampant paranoia Larxene was referring too."

"Ahh." Zexion couldn't help but smiling. "Look at us, squeaking at shadows. But I think we're safe for now, unless master Ansem have taken up working roomservice to make ends meet."

"I agree." There was a hungry gleam in Lexaeus' eyes as he turned around. "Let's take advantage of it while we can."

Zexion returned the look with one just as predatory. "Let's."

"This is _dull_!" Axel had thrown himself on the bed, dramatically flinging out his arms in despair.

"So why not find something fun to do elsewhere instead?" Larxene asked from the bathroom, where she was admiring her new hairdo.

Axel looked up, grinning. "Larxene? Suggesting sneaking out for a wild day on the streets? Imagine!"

She gave him a sweet smile. "So will you come with me?"

"Count me in!"

To say that the mood was tense would the understatement of the century. Marluxia did his best to not even look at the other man as Vexen meticulously stuffed new gear into his backpack.  
 _Deficient, the bastard!_.

He turned his back, determined to ignore his roommate until his ire had cooled off. When he finally could no longer justify his own fiddling with his pack, he reluctantly rose and turned to face the problem.

Vexen was sitting on the bed, long fingers playing with the bottle of lotion, green eyes watching him expressionlessly. Marluxia felt his mouth go dry.

"It's highly impractical," Vexen stated, "to leave off the testing of a new product until such a time that you are incapable to find a replacement."

Marluxia found himself staring blankly for a second, then quickly shook his head.  
"Ahh… yes, indeed." _You fool, say something intelligent instead of blabbing like a dimwit!_

Then the black-clad man _rose_ , to all of his impossible height, all limbs and flowing hair, and advanced on him. His breath was hot in Marluxia's ear.

"So, shall we get started?"

They lay exhausted and entangled on the bed afterwards, trying to catch their breath. Vexen uttered a pleased sound.

"What?" Feeling playful, Marluxia lazily rolled around to face him, pressing a kiss to a sweaty temple.

"The experiment was successful." Vexen's eyes were half closed, lashes fluttering against his cheeks.

"Experiment?"

"Yes. It's important to try the product in all its possible situations of use."

"So _that's_ why you wanted to do it in the chair. And here I thought you were just kinky."

Vexen sniffed disdainfully. "I leave that kind of fantasies to you, Marluxia."

"Hey! Look at this!" Axel triumphantly held up his bounty, a small garishly red camera. "Just imagine the possibilities!"

The would-be robber on the ground feebly tried to rise and make a grab for it, but Larxene happily kicked him where it hurt.

"Just think of the blackmail material! Damn, I wish we'd had one in London when the cleaning lady walked in through that door…"

"Or in that damn forest, when Marluxia got dishing duty." Sighing happily with the memories, Axel slipped the camera down a pocket and ambled out of the alleyway. Larxene followed after, leafing though the wallet of the unlucky assailants still groaning behind them.

"Find anything good?"

She shrugged. "More money. Another alley and we'll be set for that taxi you wanted."

"Then let's find one. This is a city of possibilities!"

The befuddled taxi driver let them off by the waterfront, and the none-too-clean smells of sea filled the air. The gigantic statue out on the island towered over them as they boarded the small vessel taking them out to it. Apparently it was the thing for visitors to do.

"You know, she looks a bit like you. Spiky head, waving fire around."

"As if. I look a _lot_ better than that!"

They climbed the stairs laughing and joking, earning equal amounts of disturbed glares and smiles from those around. The view from the top didn't have much to offer those who had seen the destruction of worlds unfold, but at least they had decent hot dogs and _awesome_ hats.

The green, spiked headgear perched around Axel's own spikes as they drifted through the town, their pockets filled with the gleanings of the day; wallets, cash, a couple of switch blades and the precious camera. Larxene sighed.

"I guess we'd better head back, before the others explode in terror or something."

"Yeah." Axel was leafing though the latest bill of cash an unwilling donor had left them. They were nearing the hotel's neighbourhood anyway; they could see the sign light up in the distance as they turned the corner in the twilight. "Suppose a small gift of peace might not be out of order."

Larxene followed his gaze to a small store, its window invitingly lit up to showcase the foodstuffs stacked without.

"I'm famished, but sure, I can share. No one shall call me greedy!"

They sneakily snuck in though the lobby, logged down with great swelling bags dangling from each arm. The room to Vexen's and Marluxia's room was firmly shut - _They're probably busy killing each other_ \- but Lexaeus poked his head out as they approached.

"Where have you two been?"

The pair gave him their best innocent puppy eyes. "Us? Just out patrolling the neighbourhood. Nothing to worry about."

Lexaeus sighed deeply and stepped out into the hallway. "That was very stupid of you, and you know it."

Larxene smiled her cutest smile. "Relax, Lexie. Nothing happened! And we brought goodies for everyone!"

A muscle in Lexaeus face twitched, but his voice was still even and cool. "Are you sure?"

"Of course! And it's not like we've had a vote about _not_ leaving the hotel, have we?"

The large man grunted something.

"Lexaeus! What is it?" The voice came from within the room, and Lexaeus stepped aside to let the ones outside see Zexion, sitting on the bed in the flickering light of a TV screen.

"Axel and Larxene have been out."

The smaller Nobody frowned. "Did something happen?"

Axel shrugged. "Already told the mountain here, no one even looked at us twice."

Zexion caught sight of the bags. "You have been very busy, I see."

"Oh man, just you wait until you see the grub they sell here!" Without waiting for an invitation, Axel strode into the room and started emptying the contests on the desk. Zexion and Lexaeus didn't seem too happy about the guest, but didn't protest out loud. The Schemer picked up one of the colourful bags. "Potato chips?"

"And ice cream, popcorn, soft drinks… they have _everything_ here!"

Larxene had drifted into the room after Lexaeus and now added her own bags to Axel's. "Yeah, no more charred doe for these guys!"

Vexen and Marluxia, both newly showered and well scrubbed, knocked on the door. Lexaeus opened, giving them a questioning look.

"We just… wanted to see that everything is in order." Vexen coughed. "Has Zexion regained his sense of smell yet?"

"You can ask him for yourself."

Inside the room, Vexen was surprised to see Axel and Larxene settled on the bed next to Zexion, munching things out of bags and watching TV.

"What's this?"

"Hi, guys!" Larxene threw a bag at Marluxia, who caught in on pure reflex. "Sit down, grab a bite!"

Marluxia doubtfully opened the bag and found it full off small, bright yellow… bits. "Am I supposed to eat these?"

"They taste good, actually," Zexion said, eating another out of his own bag. "Please do sit down."

The bed was already full, but Vexen and Lexaeus took command of the two chairs the room boasted and Marluxia made do with the carpet, gracefully folding his legs underneath him.

"So what is the reason for this little gathering?" Vexen had found a box of ice cream and a spoon, and was carefully sampling his spoils.

"We just wanted to share the bounty of this world equally, in all our goodness."

"I am having a hard time believing that, Larxene."

"Curses, you saw though me! No, really, what's wrong with a nice TV night, everyone gathered?"

"I could mention plenty-" Marluxia began, eyes on the screen, then he choked on his cheez doodle. "She ate that rat! She actually ate it! Do people here do that?!"

Axel and Larxene exchanged questioning glances.

"I didn't see anyone eating rats today…"

"No, and they didn't sell any at the store, or in the shop where we bought this stuff."

"Maybe only some people like it?"

"Now I am _done_ believing this machine! People here do not have metal skeletons, I would have noticed after the first bolt!"

"I'm with Larxene, these stories they show can't possibly be correct."

"Still, it's an awesome story. Did you see all that fire? Man, it's making me hot over here…"

"Can someone hit Axel hard with a pillow?"

Marluxia obliged, landing the fire wielder a good one right across the face to widespread cheers. Luckily the soda bottle in Axel's hand was mostly empty by now, as were most of the bags and wrappers spread around to room.

"Serves you right." Zexion was digging after the last chips at the bottom of the bag.

Axel threw the pillow at his smiling face, groaning. "Sure, sure… just because I'm telling the truth here!"

Larxene had spread out across the bed during the evening, forcing Axel down on the floor as she lounged with her ice cream. Axel and Marluxia made do, actually managing to sit side by side without violence erupting.

Vexen watched the screen with interest. "It is fascinating… why do people here accept all these blatant untruths, I wonder?"

"Spice in their lives?" Lexaeus suggested.

"Have you looked outside the door? This world has all the spice it could ever need right here."

"Now. Now I _know_ Xemnas has been to this world," Axel declared, staring at the screen. "Black coats, red energy swords, taking over the galaxy… he _must_ have seen this!

The others looked slightly nervous.

"I admit there are some similarities…"

"Look at the bright side," Marluxia reasoned. "If Xemnas really copied his act from this world's popular entertainment, do you think he'd send people off on missions here? Just imagine if Demyx ever saw this…"

That earned him a few giggles and several relaxed shoulders.

"Still. You haven't smelled anything, have you, Zexion?"

"Vexen, I assure you you'd be the first to know."

"Just asking, just asking."

"I'll forgive you if you pass the last popcorn."

"It's a deal."

Larxene frowned at the TV. "So, we've seen part four, five and six of this. Where are one to three?"

"They must have shown them yesterday."

"I suppose that makes sense."

"And after all, who would want anything but four, five and six? They are clearly superior."

"Was that a joke, Lexaeus? I think it was!"

"Oh, no, just a correct and thought-though remark."

Larxene promptly sent the by now rather battered pillow flying in Vexen's face. No one said it out loud, but the evening had turned out to be surprisingly pleasant for all involved.


	46. Chapter 044 – Sparks (XXX)

Chapter: 044 – Sparks (XXX).  
Location: The Big Apple  
Characters: Larxene, Axel.  
Rating/Warnings: NC-17.  
Summary: Sugar is a wonderful, wonderful drug.  
Author's note: Sorry for the delay, everyone! 

**Chapter 044 : The Big Apple – Sparks (XXX).**

* * *

"I'm _so_ bored," Larxene bounced on the bed of the room she and Axel shared. She'd had far too much candy in far too little of a time, and when the Elders- lazy sods that they were- had gotten tired, Larxene and Axel had gotten the boot, and back to their room they'd trudged.

And then Larxene's sugar-high kicked in.

Axel watched her jump across the bed, back and forth, back and forth, never _ever_ still, and talking practically a mile a minute.

"You know it was really nice this evening watching those movies I could _totally_ stay here for like a few months or years or whatever I think this place is _great_ and they have _amazing_ food and I bet Lexie and Zexion would want to stay too because this place is great and they can screw like rabbits and the only ones to complain would be Marluxia and Vexen because they're forced to stay together but we can totally outvote them and-"

"Maybe we could see about getting a more permanent form of housing," Axel mused. "Like a townhouse or something. You know, to make things sound better to those two morons."  
"Oooh, that'd be a goooood idea!" Larxene flopped down beside him, grinning a cracked, crazed smile. "You occasionally have a good idea, Axel."

Axel snorted, then allowed himself to smirk. "I got an idea right about now…"  
"Ohhh?" Larxene rolled onto her back, stretching exactly like a cat in heat. "Do share, you know I hate it when you keep secrets from meeee, it's not nice at all."

 _I got plenty of secrets I'm not sharing with you, you stupid whore_ , Axel thought to himself, but merely grinned at her instead. "Now, why would I keep a secret from you, partner? I'm just wondering when's the right time to tell you…"

"Aww, come onnnnn…" Knowing it was all a game, Larxene promptly began to roll around on the bed. "Tell meeee…" She could've just shocked it out of him- she knew that, but that would irritate him, and besides, it was all a game.

It was always a game with Axel. That's what made it interesting.

Axel grinned and leaned in over her. "Well. I was just wondering if, perhaps, you were too far gone to make some use of this 'alone time' we've got here… again."

Larxene's eyes danced and she sat up. "Too far gone? What's that supposed to mean, may I ask? I'm totally all good!"

"Good," Axel smirked, and put a hand flat on her chest and pushed her down. "Then this'll be pretty damn fun."

Cooing, Larxene wrapped her arms around his neck and squirmed up against him. "It always is, Axel dear," she cooed, nuzzling and biting down on his neck with clear intent to cause bruised marks.

Groaning, he tangled a hand in her hair and yanked, just hard enough to make her laugh and purr at him eagerly.

 _All part of the game._

Her ridiculous outfit was as difficult as always to get off. "Damn buttons," he told her, ignoring her cackle of mocking delight as she lightly scratched her nails across his scalp. Goosebumps rose on his flesh at the sensation, and he swallowed a hiss, leaning down to kiss her demandingly, eager to shut her up in any way possible.

 _Insufferable wench_. He hissed as she dug her teeth into his lip. Finally wrenching her shirt open, he took a moment to admire her.

Sure, she wasn't… _perfect_ , but then again, no one was, not to him, really. But she was _damned_ hot and that's pretty much what mattered at the moment.

 _And willing. The willing part is a nice touch._

Grinning inwardly, he turned his attention to her pants, tugging them down as roughly as she yanked on his hair. "You're eager tonight, Axel, dear," she cooed at him, eyes gleaming. "What's on your mind?"

"What, I'm not allowed to be horny anymore?" Axel's grin was lopsided and vicious, and it only grew broader at Larxene's tittering laugh.

"Well, I _suppose_ ," she mused, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "If it benefits _me_ …"

Axel bit the inside of her thigh, causing her to squeal and gasp. "If you'd shut up, it would," he purred, licking his lips.

"Oooh, someone's take-charge tonight," she cooed, flopping back and wriggling again. "All right, do your worst, Number Eight," she smirked.

"I'd rather do my best," the redhead grinned, mouthing his way up her thigh. Whatever she was going to say was cut off by a squeal as he tongued her slowly, reaching up to grab her hand and pull it out of his hair before she tore it all out by the roots.

 _Damn, and she said_ I _was eager_ …

Grinning, he pulled back long before she was satisfied, making a show of licking his lips in an exaggerated manner and only grinning wider at her irritated glare. "What? Something wrong?"

"You didn't finish the job," she sulked, squirming a little, pinching her own nipple. "It's not fair."

"Never said I was done," he scoffed, settling down beside her. "I just needed a breather. You're always too excited and ya almost crush my damn skull. And us Nobodies still have to breathe, yanno." He paused, scratching the back of his neck. "Isn't that odd?"

She punched him in the shoulder. "Don't get introspective, just fuck me!"

"Damn, you're so fucking demanding," Axel snorted, but his grin never wavered as he clambered over her, leaning down to bite at each nipple in turn, earning himself extra brownie points for later. "You're lucky I think it's a turn-on."

"You think _everything_ is a turn-on," she shot back, arching up against him, nails raking down his back. "Which you're lucky _I_ like."

"Mm, I'm sure," Axel muttered, biting at her neck, pressing down against her, teasing her without real penetration. He winced as her teeth sank into his ear.

 _Someone's not in the mood to mess around tonight…_

He knew he could just blame the sugar, but this was a fairly standard occurrence, after all. Larxene liked foreplay when it suited _her_ , and that was that.

He forced his irritation to the back of his mind. _Oh, for fuck's sake. Wet, willing hole. Just go with it._

Baring his teeth in a semi-feral grin, he jerked his hips forward, burying himself inside her quickly and easily. Her moan of pleasure was ultimately worth it, as was the feeling of wet, slick heat surrounding him.  
 _Fuck, I fucking needed this…_

He closed his eyes for a moment, just concentrating on keeping his control and keeping relatively calm. _Damn. You'd think I'd never done this before, shit._

Nails bit into his arms, making him jerk involuntarily, and he groaned. Larxene merely giggled, leaning up to lick his neck. "Something wrong, Axel?" she purred, looking up at him with lidded eyes.

"Not a damn thing," he grinned down at her, rolling his hips slowly. "Mm, no, I'd say everything's pretty… ahh… damn good right about now…" His eyes fluttered shut as Larxene- who had very _excellent_ muscle control, by the way- rocked up against him, hands lying flat on his chest now. "Damn," he muttered, leaning down to nip at her neck again, marking her in return.

He was fairly content to hold himself there, letting her do all the work for him- _Heh, should've let her top… mm, that's an idea…_ \- but that would definitely _not_ earn him brownie points for later, so he slowly started to move, drawing things out, enjoying her flushed and frustrated look as he kept the pace glacially slow.

"Dammit, Axel," she hissed, trying, ineffectually, to rock her hips up faster, a tactic that might have worked if he hadn't dropped his hands down and rested his full weight on his arms, keeping her hips absolutely pinned.

"Something wrong, Larxene?" he smirked, echoing her words from earlier. His smirk turned into a grimace as she clawed at his arms. "Ow, goddammit, aren't you enjoying this?"

"No," she pouted, going from enraged to petulant in seconds. "You're teasing me."

"Part of the game," Axel licked her neck.

"We don't talk about the game," Larxene purred, biting his ear. "Start moving."

Chuckling deep in his chest, Axel actually decided to obey, speeding up his pace to something acceptable for Larxene's tastes. Finally, her nails stopped digging into his arms, and her fingers danced over the welts she'd left behind, cooing appreciatively. "Much better," she agreed, no longer complaining about his grip on her hips. "Much better indeed, oh, yes…"

"Mmm…" Axel agreed, letting his eyes fall shut. His hands trailed from hip to breast back to hip, no longer forcing her hips to lie still. She used that to her advantage shamelessly, meeting him thrust for thrust, biting at his shoulder and returning to digging her nails into his back.

 _Sadists…_

He grinned against her neck, shifting and sinking his teeth into her shoulder, holding her close as she shrieked and shuddered against him in mindless pleasure. Closing his eyes, he let himself go as well, his release washing over him in waves.

 _Yeah. Needed that._

He slumped to the side, stretching lazily. "Mm. Damn. That's nice. That's real nice." He stifled a wince as the welts on his back met the cool sheets of the bed. "Mmmm."

Giggling, Larxene snuggled to his chest, chuckling. "Mm. You sure know how to treat a lady."

"I sure do," Axel agreed, grinning lopsidedly. "Real good at it."

"Mmm." Larxene drew nonsense patterns on his chest. "Mm. I feel so much better now. I think the sugar is an awesome aphrodisiac. Hasn't anyone tested that?"

"We just did," Axel pointed out, and snickered some.

She lightly thwapped his chest and closed her eyes, resting her cheek against him. "Mm. I really think we should try to stay here. I think it'd be… _awesome._ "

"Yeah," Axel agreed, but he had no intentions of really doing so.

 _I can't get back to Roxas if I'm stuck here with these idiots… 'course, this place… it'd be really easy to ditch them…_ His expression turned thoughtful and he bit the inside of his cheek. _I could slip away, get back… get back to Roxas._

 _Yeah. Yeah, I could do that._

He jerked a little as Larxene straddled him, grinning down at him with that mad little grin of hers. "I don't think I'm quite finished, are you?" She tilted her head to one side, still grinning.

Axel shook off his quiet thoughts and gave her a large grin in return. "I'm always up for more," he purred, rocking up against her slowly, even though he was still (temporarily) soft. "You might just have to work for it."

"Thought so," Larxene purred, and nipped at his chest, slowly working her way down.

 _Rare treat_ , Axel grinned, putting his arms behind his head and relaxing.

Since he was stuck here, might as well enjoy the spoils, after all.


	47. Chapter 045 – Out There

Chapter: 045 – Out There.  
Location: The Big Apple  
Characters: Vexen, Marluxia, Zexion, Larxene, Axel, Lexaeus.  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, perhaps? Some hinted gay-sexins, but no actual smut. The occasional ugly word.  
Summary: Breakfast turns out an unusually interesting affair. 

**Chapter 045 : The Big Apple – Out There.**

* * *

 _Desire_ , Vexen wrote in his tight, slanted scrawl. His notebook was propped against his pillow, lazy morning sunlight painting a bright streak across the empty page.

 _Emotion or physiological reaction? Even the most primitive single-cell organisms display it – desire to live, to pass on their genetic sequence. Instinct, then? But like emotion, it often defies all logic. Even Nobodies display it. Desire to become whole. Desire for power. Desire for-_  
His hand hesitated the briefest moment.  
 _for each other._

He scowled at the page. There _had_ been a thought in there somewhere when he woke, clear, defined and important, making him grope around impatiently for his notepad, but whatever it might have been, it seemed to elude him the further he pursued the subject.

Irritably snapping the already rather battered notebook shut he transferred his accusing glare to the bed's other occupant, who seemed to have taken up the habit of sleeping in once the chance for a comfortable bed had presented itself.  
Granted, last night had been late to the point of becoming early, and admittedly they hadn't fallen asleep right away even after returning to their own room.  
For whatever reason.

Marluxia managed to look smug even in sleep, and he was briefly torn between wanting to slap or kiss the rosy little smirk.

Curbing either impulse he instead opted to slip out of bed for a cold shower, to take his mind off such foolishness. The sudden frequent intimacy was a dreadful habit that certainly _had_ to be broken at soonest possible opportunity, for innumerable well-founded reasons.

And the cool shower _would_ have worked wonders if the object of his inner conflict had not joined him halfway through, still smirking, and offered company both unwanted and completely irresistible.

It turned out the others had opted for a late breakfast as well, and the group was almost alone in the dining room when they arrived.

Zexion joined Vexen by the breakfast buffet, serving himself generous second helpings of blueberry pancakes and, of course, more tea.  
Focusing on heaping eggs and sausages onto his own plate Vexen looked up when the younger man addressed him.

" I thought it would please you to know, since you've been so very worried about my health lately, that I'm much better this morning. And no," he forestalled the obvious following question, " I haven't picked up any scent of Heartless, Nobodies or other enemies."

Nodding, Vexen returned his attention to the food.  
" Good. Just stay vigilant. We can't afford to let our guard down again."  
" Why, how good of you to remind me, Vexen. I wouldn't have thought of that myself. "

Zexion suddenly smirked, and a maliciously amused tone crept into his voice.  
" And you..? You seem to have survived another night, despite the company?"  
Vexen stiffened, but managed to restrain the reflex to snap at the little snake to mind his own business.  
" We make do," he coolly replied, heading on along the buffet table to grab a cup of tea for himself. Never one to let go of a chance to innocently harass a colleague, Zexion amicably followed.

" Glad to hear it. I do feel for you, really, I do," he said with insincerest sympathy, just barely  
bothering to conceal that intolerably bratty smirk of his. " Or I _would_ , if I could, that is. I think you're even beginning to smell of roses."  
He sniffed theatrically.

And the look of absolute horror that slowly spread across his face _would_ have been incredibly amusing, if not for the mortifying reason.

" Vexen! You _didn't!_ "

The Schemer had suddenly gone very pale. Heartless or not, Vexen's utter lack of visible reaction was quite impressive as he merely continued pouring his tea.  
" Kindly keep your nose out of my private business, Zexion, or I can personally guarantee you will suffer from a cold for the rest of your miserable existence."  
The teapot made a soft click as he put it down, turning to give the shorter Nobody a steady look.

" And believe me, when cold is concerned I _know_ what I'm talking about."

Disgust and shock struggling across his features, Zexion automatically put a sleeve to his nose, his plate of pancakes completely forgotten on the table.

" I wish I could! Vexen, you _reek_ of him!"

And with a visible shudder he turned tail and fled.

" One day we will visit a world civilized enough to offer proper tea, and it will be the end of all existence," Marluxia muttered, giving the brown liquid in his cup a contemptuous look.

" Oh stop whining, Marluxia," Larxene snorted and elbowed him in a friendly manner, hard enough to bruise. " They have great food here, and lots of it! No-one cares about tea anyway. Except maybe Zexion. And he seems to like the stuff."

" Speak of the devil," Axel stated, precariously balancing his chair on two legs, already having finished his breakfast.

Indeed the Schemer was hurrying towards their table, clenching a teacup in white fingers, an odd look on his face. Lexaeus looked up with a worried frown and leaned over as Zexion bent down and started whispering excitedly in his ear, gesturing animatedly.

Astoundingly, even the Silent Hero's stony face cracked into a stunned look of disbelief, his flinty eyes focusing on Marluxia in a most unpleasant manner.

" _Vexen_..? With _him_? Surely not!"

More whispering, and a few shudders. By now the two had an attentive audience, Axel letting his chair fall back down on all fours to be able to lean closer.

" Now, now, now, Zexion!" Larxene complained loudly. " You can't keep the gossip to yourselves, no fair! What's going on?"

" _Absolutely nothing_ ," Vexen clipped as he swept into an empty chair, tone short and cold enough to freeze to the bone. He proceeded to utterly ignore Zexion's and Lexaeus' bewildered expressions, uncomfortably sipping his tea.

The Neophytes looked between the Elders, to Marluxia and back again.

" No seriously, what _about_ Vexen and Marluxia?" Axel asked, curious.

" He _said_ it was nothing," Marluxia hissed, eyes narrowing.

Larxene tittered in amusement.

" Listen to you – you sound like an old married couple! Soon you'll finish each other's sentences!"

" Shut _up_ , Larxene!"

Sticking her tongue out at the group's other blond, the Nymph turned back to Zexion.

" Come on, Zexion, spill the beans. How did they screw up this time?"

Axel was grinning broadly.

" They killed someone, didn't they? Lost all our munny on gambling? Or wait, they're secret _lovers_ , right, our very own Romeo and Juliet..?"

Zexion gave a choked sound. Axel's grin slowly faded.

" You're not serious. They _did_ lose all our munny?"

" No," Lexaeus said. " Not the munny."

" Killed someone..?" Axel said, a desperate note of hope in his voice. Larxene was staring at Marluxia as though he was slowly growing an extra nose.

" Oh, _drop_ it!" Vexen snarled. " Powers know _your_ bedroom habits would make a whore blush! You have no _business_ -…"

But no-one was listening anymore.

" You didn't. Seriously, man, you _didn't_! God _damn_ , if I'd known you were _that_ desperate I would have let you have Larxene!"

" Eww! I wouldn't touch him with a stick, now when I know where he's been! That's just _gross_ , Marluxia!"

Zexion and Lexaeus were giving Vexen identical accusing glances.

" No _wonder_ you've been voting with them lately…" Zexion muttered.

" How _dare_ you presume..!"

" How long has this been going on, Vexen..?" Lexaeus inquired, deep voice serious. " This is more than enough to make one question your loyalties."

" What?! Don't be _ridiculous!_ "

" Of course not!", Marluxia's voice could be heard in the temporary following silence, suddenly quite loud, " I didn't let _him_ do me, it was _me_ pounding him… into... the…"

" Don't want to know! Don't want to know!" Larxene screeched, although her manical grin and cruelly glittering eyes completely belied her feigned innocence.

Axel was just gaping, stunned into horrified silence.

" Mental images I did _not_ want, " he whimpered weakly. Zexion shuddered in agreement.

Larxene shook her head, her sadistic grin equal parts disgusted and intrigued.

" What I don't get is _why_? I mean, seriously! Zexion I could maybe understand, you have no taste and he's a slut, and Lexie, sure, we all wanna sample that, but… _Vexen_?"

Offended despite himself the scientist growled angrily.

" Possibly he was desperate to get something better than _you_ , Larxene? Then again, that's not hard, even in _this_ group."

Marluxia very studiously did _not_ hide his face in his hands as the Savage Nymph narrowed her eyes, still grinning dangerously.

" Ooh, that's catty-talk, that is… Watch it, Juliet. There's only room for _one_ bitch in this team, and that spot's taken."

" Really, Vexen, that sort of liaison with a Neophyte and known traitor… It's _most_ irresponsible," Lexaeus lectured.

There was an odd hiss and it took the group a moment to realize it was the sound of air being sucked in between teeth clenched very hard. With remarkable self control Vexen pushed back his chair and stood with a flourish.

" I have better things to do than listen to this utter nonsense. Come, Marluxia. Let's go break the bed again."

With a hideous grin Marluxia stood as well.

And while it was wholly immature to share with the scientist a deep and very, _very_ suggestive kiss before sweeping off, the look on all the others' faces was decidedly worth it.

" Well," Marluxia said eventually, standing by the window and looking emptily at the brick wall across the street.

Vexen was still sitting on the bed, face in hands. His only response was another pained groan.  
Turning from the window the Assassin raised his eyebrows.

" You really think it's _that_ bad..?"

" Bad? It's disastrous!"

Another groan and Vexen collapsed back on the bed, face still his hands.

" I'll never be rid of you now! It won't _matter_ what I say, they will always _assume_ … Oh, _Darkness_ …"

" It's _never_ mattered what you said, dearest, no-one ever listens to you, " Marluxia scoffed. " At least now they will have to respect us as joined force within the group."

Thin hands parted enough to fire off a baleful green glare.

" Yes, right, a _one-and-a-half-vote_ force of power! They'll shiver before our might for sure! _Damn_ it!"

Scowling Marluxia turned back to the window, holding the curtains aside to contemplate the brick wall again, mostly because the sight of Vexen sprawled on his back on the bed was annoyingly distracting.

" Votes be damned. With the others joined up in pairs it was just a question of time. Within or without the group, standing alone could prove fatal. And face it, Vexen, no-one else would even consider standing by your side."

And that was apparently the final straw.  
There wasn't even a hiss of warning; suddenly the curtains froze so cold his fingers _burned_. With a yell he snatched back his hand, leaving several layers of skin behind.

He turned, furious, to find Vexen back on his feet, green glare murderous.

" _You ordered my death_ ," Vexen spat, tone low and dangerous. " I will never forget that, Marluxia. I will _never_ trust you to watch my back - and perhaps you should be more careful turning yours on me."

He narrowed his eyes at the thinly veiled threat.

" Don't be foolish! You've slept like a log at my side for nights. If I meant you harm, I could have killed you a hundred times over. What reason would I have to harm you?"

Vexen's eyes were unreadable.

" Yes, what reason, Marluxia..? I didn't know of one in Oblivion, and that cost me everything. I was fool enough to let my guard down once. I won't make the same mistake again."

 _Oh, impossible, unreasonable man!_

" No-one said it's an ideal situation, but it can't be helped! Why can't you just accept fact, Vexen? We're all we have."

" You know what, Marluxia? Go fuck yourself."

Stunned by the rare profanity, it took the Assassin a few moments to realize Vexen was heading for the door with every intention of leaving.

" Damn it, Vexen, don't be such a fool! Without me you'll be as good as dead!"

Green, green eyes to drown in, filled to the brim with words never spoken.

" Maybe I'd rather be."

And the door slammed shut and he was alone.

" I can't believe it."

It was the third time in as many minutes Zexion had uttered the words, and still they didn't quite seem to encompass the vastness of his miscalculation.

On the TV screen a brightly smiling woman in tight pastel clothing and scrunched textile tubes on her legs was trying to convince any viewers that squatting and stretching was the thing of the day and ought to be immediately practiced.

" I agree, it's rather vexing, " Lexaeus agreed, earning himself a sour glare when his small partner couldn't quite decipher if the bad pun was unconscious or intentional. Deciding to ignore it, Zexion chewed his lower lip, leaning his chin on clasped hands.

" It's preposterous. It makes no _sense_."

" You don't think you're blowing this out of proportion?" Lexaeus neutrally asked, glancing at the pastel-woman who now seemed to imitate a dog going about certain private business.

Zexion gave a dark huff.

" You think so? If Vexen's loyalties shift to the Neophyte's side for good, we'll be outvoted every time a decision is to be made. We won't have any say in where we're going, when we're leaving – hell, they all dislike us both enough to put us on dish duty, too, or something equally childish! Is it out of proportion enough for you, yet?"

" There is no need to be upset," Lexaeus responded with his usual infuriating calm. " I realize the potential problems. Is that really what bothers you, though?"

Raising his chin from his hands he gave the Silent Hero a suspicious look.

" What do you mean?"

" I _think_ ," Lexaeus stated, and he could have sworn there was a shadow of a smile there, even though he'd never be able to prove it, "that you are more upset because the news caught you unawares, than because it actually poses a problem for us."

The hysterical woman on the TV had now been joined by an entire legion of pastel-dressed people, all of them jumping up and down with identical manic smiles.

Zexion gave Lexaeus a glare, aware it made him look sulky more than anything.

" It _is_ a problem. But yes, of course it irks me. I'm supposed to keep track of these things. And I _never_ … It's just… I can't believe it."

Lexaeus shrugged, apparently half-mesmerized by the incomprehensible ritual on the TV.

" You have been ill. Your senses weren't functioning like you're used to. It's not as though anyone else knew, either."

" Maybe I couldn't smell it, but I should have seen it! Thinking back those two _have_ been acting extremely odd for weeks. I honestly thought I had Vexen figured out after all this time, but this? And _Marluxia_..? I was certain the two of them hated each other!"

" Love and hate are two sides to a coin," Lexaeus mumbled, attention shifting to the flickering screen again. Zexion scowled.

" What?"

Lexaeus blinked and looked back.

" What? Oh, it's a figure of speech, isn't it? Not that Nobodies are capable of either emotion."

" Which only makes it more vexing." Zexion almost bit his lip at repeating the unintended pun. "I mean confounding. I knew Marluxia was a pig, but Vexen… He smelled of _lust_ , did you know? Not just, just a roll in the hay. He'd _enjoyed_ it."

" I'm sure I didn't need to know that, Zexion."

Crossing his arms the Schemer went back to glaring darkly at the insane pastel acrobatics on the TV.

" Well, we'll see. Let Vexen play with his new friends. If Marluxia decides to double-cross him again, he can forget us coming to his aid."

" We didn't last time, either, you know."

" Oh, shut up."

The neon light from the hotel sign was illuminating the hunched figure by the time Marluxia tracked him down, afternoon settling into warm twilight beyond the tall buildings.

" So here you are. I looked all over for you."

" I'm not talking to you. Go away."  
Vexen didn't even bother looking up from his notepad.

Resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose in resigned frustration Marluxia strolled across the roof and looked down at the scientist.

" Nice view."

" I told you to go away."

" We need to talk."

" Yes, you keep saying that. So far I haven't heard you present anything but gibberish, though."

" Like you said, the others will assume an alliance between us now, whether there is one or not. Don't you think we should at least be on talking terms if they decide to start trouble?"

Vexen gave him a short, unfriendly stare before returning to his notebook.

" Don't you dare be calm and rational at me."

" Well, at least _one_ of us ought to be..."

" I heard that. Go away."

" Not until you agree to come with me and talk."

" Go away."

" You'll have to come inside sooner or later to sleep."

" Go away."

" I'll treat you to dinner."

Vexen looked up from his notebook with a suspicious frown.

" You don't have munny enough to buy a hotdog, Marluxia."

" I do now, and you don't want to know what I had to go through to get them. Let's just say I owe Larxene a favour. So... Will you join me for dinner?"

Reluctantly Vexen pocketed his notebook and stood, tall bony thing that he was.

" I still don't trust you, for the record. I'm just along for the food."

He smiled, and found it came quite naturally.

" Well. It's a start."

The place was quite fancy, so rich in velvet, fine wood and candlelight it could have been considered extremely gaudy had it not all been so tastefully implemented.

The food was very good.  
As was the wine.

" What a mess, " Vexen lamented, staring into his glass. " I had just decided to harass Lexaeus into giving me my own room at any cost, too. And now this."

" Hn," Marluxia mumbled noncommittally, absently stroking the foot of his slender crystal glass. " You really resent being stuck with me that much?"

Vexen shot him a dirty look, just ever so slightly unfocused. The wine had indeed been _very_ good.

" Of course. What had you expected?"

He shrugged and returned his gaze to his glass, deciding it was about time to fill it up again.

" You're not exactly a dream come true either, Vexen. In fact, I can't think of a single person in the group harder to cooperate with – and in our group, that's quite the accomplishment. You just _always_ have to complicate things, win every little discussion and over-analyze and read insults into _everything_."

" Well, _you're_ a power-greedy little snake who always has to be in control. Always scheming and plotting without a care for anyone else. Always putting your nose into the air and being an impossible pain about everything."

" So now we know about each others' shortcomings. That's nice."

" You realize Larxene is right..?" Vexen stated morosely, poking at his glass. " We do quarrel like an old married couple."

" Gods forbid."

" Indeed. Pass the bottle."

There was a rather long silence during which comforting amounts of alcohol were thoughtfully consumed.

" I rather do hate you, you know," Vexen calmly confided. Marluxia nodded.

" I know, I know. The sex is good, though."

Vexen scoffed, but gave a small shrug.

" Yes. I guess it is. Even you have to have _some_ redeeming quality, I suppose. Possibly not the most stable foundation for an alliance, however."

Marluxia shrugged. It was quite annoying how these tiny little slender glasses emptied so quickly and had to be refilled.

" It's something, at least. We do have a mutual interest, after all."

" The sex?"

" I _meant_ staying alive. But yes, granted, the sex too."

" Ah. Yes, well. I suppose we can agree on that, at least. Staying alive is a good start."

Marluxia smiled softly and raised his refilled glass.

" To staying alive, then."

There was a quiet clink of crystal, and Vexen couldn't repress a shudder as he brought his glass to his lips, as though the simple agreement foreshadowed multitudes of future consequences.

" To staying alive."


	48. Chapter 046 – Post Coitus

Chapter: 046 – Post Coitus.  
Location: The Big Apple  
Characters: Vexen, Marluxia.  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13. Hints of gayish sex, no actual details.  
Summary: Vexen formulates a daring hypothesis about suitable substitutes for a heart. This leads to certain problems. 

**Chapter 046 : The Big Apple – Post Coitus.**

* * *

It was about an hour and several bottles later that two extremely mellow Nobodies were having a very deep and quite intriguing existential discussion.

" You know. I think Xemnas got it all wrong from the start."

" Yes, obviously, that's one reason I wanted him replaced."

" Traitor."

" Hypocrite. What were you going to say?"

Vexen stared at his glass for a moment, trying to recall where he'd been going with his train of thought.

" Yes. Right. See. Kingdom Hearts and all that? He just _has_ to go way over the top as always. _Obviously_ we have inadvertently stumbled across a much simpler solution."

Marluxia looked puzzled.

" What?"

" Alcohol. It's brilliant. Because people drink to _forget_ , right? And so we can forget that we can't remember how to feel. Brilliant."

Marluxia creased his brow.

" I'm not sure…"

" Oh, come on. It's making us feel pretty nice right now, isn't it? I can't remember when I last felt so relaxed."

" That's because you're an uptight bastard with a three-foot icicle up your ass. You're _never_ relaxed."

" I'm fully capable of shoving a three-foot icicle up _your_ ass if you keep being rude."

" I might like that. But yes, admittedly, the alcohol _is_ pretty nice."

" See!" Vexen gestured triumphantly. " Hah! We could have saved ourselves a lot of trouble! Skipped all the research and hearts and Keybearerers! Just bought a lot of wine."

And he dissolved into giggles for a while.  
Marluxia had to admit to himself that even though the basic hypothesis seemed somewhat faulty, he was enjoying himself immensely, and for a Nobody that was no doubt an experience to be treasured.

" I'm sure Xemnas and the others would welcome us all back with open arms if you just shared that excellent idea with them," he deadpanned, drawing another undignified giggle from the very inebriated scientist across the table.

" We're just full of excellent ideas tonight," Vexen stated, tearing a page out of his notepad to pen a mock letter.

" _Dear Xemnas_ , no he always was an arrogant sod, just like you. _Dearest Superior. We have now solved all the Organizations problems for you. Instead of hearts, have you considered alcohol?_ Signed IV and XI."

Marluxia realized his own chuckle had taken on a definite giggly character by now.

" And _P.S You're a lousy boss and I never liked you,_ " Vexen intoned.

" Why not ask for a raise while you're at it?"

" You know, I should. Cheap miser, always prioritizing toys for the _warriors_ of the Organization and still expecting damned miracles from the labs. Bastard."

" You should drown your sorrows in another bottle, I think."

" I think you may actually be right. For once."

" I'm always right."

" Hah. You always did have the most warped imagination, Marluskia."

" You know you love me for it."

It was well past midnight by the time the waiters very politely notified their two remaining guests that the restaurant was closing, presented a downright hideous bill and finally gently but firmly ushered the pair into the street.

Through equal parts dumb luck and razor-sharp survival skills only slightly dulled by the vast amounts of wine, they eventually found themselves back at the hotel.

The corridors were dark and silent and Vexen tried to convince himself they were _not_ giggling like exhilarated teenagers as they collapsed on a bench behind a big potted plant, hands roving everywhere.

Presumably there was hot sex, but by then the world was spinning so wildly it was frankly hard to tell.

Limbs entangled, his nose blissfully buried in that soft, rose-scented hair, he fell asleep.

Morning happened.

The light was grey and gloomy, not the sharp line of sunlight he had already grown used to. The bed had also become impossibly uncomfortable.

Very slowly, for some reason feeling he would regret it, Vexen pried an eye open.  
His head hurt horribly.

The surroundings looked vaguely familiar, in the 'same carpet and wallpaper as the rest of the hotel' kind of way, although this place was most definitely _not_ their room.  
The bed was uncomfortable because it was Marluxia.

With a choked groan he tried to sit up, then immediately regretted it and sank into a miserable heap on the floor, head in hands. He vaguely contemplated being sick in the flowerpot beside him, but decided against it. Whatever he had consumed last night to make him feel this way was probably too spread throughout his system by now to be expelled that easily.

Marluxia gave a rather undignified soft snore, more disheveled than he could ever remember having seen the man. He would possibly rather have enjoyed the sight, hadn't he felt so utterly miserable.

He remembered the restaurant. There had been quite a lot of wine, and the recollections of the past evening got steadily blurrier as they progressed. He couldn't even remember walking back to the hotel.

There was something about alcohol, though, and what a splendid substitution for a heart it was…

He suddenly stiffened, eyes snapping wide open.

" Marluxia!" he croaked, then gave the sleeping man a violent shake when he got no response. Blinking and looking every bit as miserable as he felt, the Assassin jerked awake, certainly _not_ graceful this morning.

" What? What?! Oh, gods, my head…"

" The letter! Tell me we didn't post the letter!"

" What letter?" the man groused, rubbing his temples, clothes hanging off of him in various stages of escape.

" The stupid letter to Xemnas! We didn't actually post it, did we?"

Marluxia gave him a blank look, and then his red-shot eyes suddenly widened in horror.

" We can't have! We wouldn't have been that stupid. Certainly…"

" Do _you_ remember us walking back here last night? We didn't pass any mailboxes, did we? … _Did_ we?"

" I… No. I don't think so."

" Are you _sure_..?"

Marluxia seemed to realize he was half-undressed and started tugging absently at his clothes.

" I… No. Not absolutely sure. But we _wouldn't_ …"

" Dare we chance it?"

They exchanged the identical looks of horror that only unwanted merciless sobriety very early in the morning can bring about.

" I… suppose we should go look. Just to be sure."

" Yes. Come on. The sooner the better."

" I suppose. Only… Vexen?"

" What?"

" You may want to get your pants back on first." 

It was raining.

Too light out to be called night, but too uncomfortably early to really count as morning. It was cold, and grey. And it was raining.

Vexen stood hugging himself, already soaked, as his pink-haired companion was trying to wrench a mailbox open enough to stick his arm into it.

Occasionally a car would drive by and drench them to the waist with cascades of rather dirty water.

" I can't reach. Damn, a match would solve all our problems. You don't happen to have any?"

" No. We've gotten too used to having Axel around to use them," Vexen muttered.

The cool rain was making his aching head feel marginally better, but it was a miserable morning after an equally miserable day – the temporary alcohol-tinted glow at the restaurant didn't count – and he just _knew_ the others would demand to know where they'd been.

Maybe a suitably dirty lie with outrageous juicy details would traumatize them enough to avoid further questions…

It was cold. He was wet and miserable enough that even _he_ could feel it, and he sorely yearned for a hot shower, and then a clean bed.

Something was shuffling about at the back of his jumbled mind, some small thought of quite great importance.

He frowned and tried to focus.

" Marluxia..?" he finally said, voice oddly distant.

" What?" the Assassin muttered, temporarily locked in an impasse against the adverse mailbox.

" Did we… stamp the letter?"

Marluxia blinked and stopped struggling.

" No. No, we didn't. Obviously not."

" In fact," Vexen continued, gaze still somewhat unfocused, " Do they even _get_ postal deliveries in the World That Never Was..?"

There was a rather long silence.

" No."

" No."

Even through the rain, Marluxia could hear the tell-tale hiss of an utterly disgruntled Vexen sucking air through his teeth.

" I am going back to the hotel," the scientist declared, ice in every syllable, sweeping wet hair from his face. " And I am not talking to you again, ever."

With a flourish of billowing black robes he turned and stomped off through the rain, getting thoroughly splashed by another passing car after only a few steps.

An odd series of metallic clanks punctuated by muffled swearing could be heard from behind.

" Vexen! Get back here! I'm stuck! _Vexen!_ "

Utterly unperturbed the black-clad man kept walking.

Through the rain, grey morning dawned over the city that never slept.


	49. Chapter 047 – A Case of Mistaken

Chapter: 047 – A Case of Mistaken Identities.  
Location: The Big Apple  
Characters: Vexen, Marluxia, Zexion, Lexaeus, Larxene, Axel.  
Rating/Warnings: G.  
Summary: Our heroes adapt to city life. An overheard conversation has big consequences. 

**Chapter 047 : The Big Apple – A Case of Mistaken Identities.**

* * *

"You know, this is quite fascinating, revolting as it is." Axel was stretched out on his back in front of the TV, munching popcorn out of a bag.

"The movie or the fact that we are two Nobodies short?" Larxene asked, helping herself to his popcorn shamelessly.

"The Nobodies. I mean, to not even come out for a movie night… they are probably doing the deed right behind that wall there even as we speak. "

"Now you are just coarse," Zexion grumbled, sitting on the bed next to Lexaeus.

"Oh, come on! "

Larxene swallowed another mouthful of grains with a disgruntled look, ignoring the ugly doll wreaking havoc on the screen. "I still can't understand it. Why would anyone in their right mind go back to Vexen when you have all of the worlds at your disposal? He's boring, he's old, he's _Vexen_."

Axel looked up at her. "Wait a minute. Go _back_ to Vexen?"

That earned him a smirk in return. "You suck at being a spy, Axel. You didn't know?"

Axel narrowed his eyes, turning to the two Elders. " _Please_ tell me she's just pulling my leg."

Lexaeus and Zexion exchanged a glance, then shrugged. "So you really didn't know."

"You have _got_ to be kidding me! I can't believe they were both that desperate."

Larxene tittered. "Vexen was probably only desperate for Marluxia to leave him the hell alone." Her smile melted into a pout. "I really do not understand them at _all_."

"No? Really?!" Axel flopped back onto the carpet with an evil smile. "And you two bastards just sat back and watched it all?"

Lexaeus met his gaze impassively. " He would have asked for our assistance had he wanted it."

Zexion nodded, eyes hidden behind his hair as he hunted for the last chips in the bag. "Vexen is a capable man. He could take care of himself."

"You two really are rats, I hope you know that. Utter, utter bastards."

The Elders decided not to answer that.

As usual, Vexen and Marluxia were the last to join in around the breakfast table. The blond man determinedly ignored the company, busying himself with his bowl of porridge in silence.

"You're awfully late again," Larxene cheerfully pointed out. "Did something detain you?"

"Eww, Larxene, don't say such disgusting things!" Axel protested with laughing horror.

"Oh, shut it." It was more a snarl than anything, and Vexen dug into his porridge savagely enough for milk to splash over the rim.

Beside him, Marluxia took no heed of the taunts, sipping his tea with elevated tranquility. The situation had been the same for several days now and showed no sign of changing. Vexen dealt with the others' newfound interest and opinions with badly concealed ire, while Marluxia had yet to rise to the baits. If anything, this seemed to just make Vexen even crankier.

The recent access to showers, food and laundry services were beginning to show for real around the table. Axel's spikes once again defied gravity and Vexen's hair was neatly tucked behind his ears. Their clothes were clean and neatly mended or replaced where it was needed. Even with tears and stains, no one had wanted to give up the black coats. It was a subject not broadcasted, but Vexen could not shake the irrational feeling that too much of their personalities was tied up in the stark black leather, that each and every one somehow feared to lose some of himself if forced to part with his garments.

Silly idea.

Of course, Marluxia had had that choice made for him. And had found other black robes to replace those lost. At the moment, the man in question was coldly discussing with Axel.

"I couldn't help but notice you had _found_ it, could I?"

Axel smiled his sharp, dishonest smile.  
"Of course you couldn't. Just keeping it safe for you, buddy. Glad to hand it back, really."

He pulled a black, silky cloth from his pocket; Vexen recognized Marluxia's keffiyeh, wrinkled and forlorn. The redhead held it out to his companion, then made an exaggerated face of remembrance.

"Shit, man, just struck me… me and Larxene got quite frisky with this thing yesterday." He gave Marluxia a wide open look of innocence. "But I'm sure no one will notice the stains."

Marluxia snatched his hand back as though stung. "You wash that thing before giving it back to me! Thoroughly!"

It was later, after the group had wandered back to their own rooms and prepared for another relaxed but slightly boring day. Lexaeus was enjoying the sunlight streaming in though the hotel room window as he bent over the stubborn cube in his hand.

Zexion paused on his way from the bathroom.  
"Are you still puzzling over that thing? I keep telling you, if you would only let me try I'd have it figured out in a heartbeat."

Lexaeus gave him a small snort, still eyeing the cube.  
"It's different from the ones from Radiant Garden. There's no need to hurry."

Zexion answered with a rude sound and went to sprawl on the bed, listlessly leafing through his Lexicon.  
"You're just worried I'll solve it faster than you."

It was almost an effort to keep from rolling his eyes; they both knew who had the real talent for patiently picking away at a problem until the solution presented itself. When Earth itself was your element, patience came easily.  
"You can have it as soon as I'm done."

"Fine, fine." Zexion was clearly restless, loitering on the bed for a few more minutes before sitting up with a sigh.  
"I feel like a beast in a cage."

With a sigh, Lexaeus put down his toy. "I'd suggest sex, but frankly, we're beginning to act like the gentlemen next door."

A smile tugged at Zexion's lips. "Ah, yes. Well, we might be forgiven for overindulging after some weeks in a communal heap on the floor of an igloo."

"How about a trip to the store? It's our turn to buy something for tonight anyway."

"Capital, my friend. I knew I could count on you."

The sun was beginning its descent as they strolled towards the small store on the corner, shining down on the people filling the street. To Zexion's sensitive nose, the city was a melting pot of smells, some sweet, mostly foul, with the ever-present underlying aroma of Darkness. It was faint, not in any quality that a creature of darkness would leave behind, but it still tickled his senses.

They passed yet another alleyway, and Zexion wrinkled his nose over the stench of rot emanating from it. It was full of dumpsters; refuse littered the ground. There was something else too, a small man surrounded by a pack of stray dogs. Zexion would have hurriedly walked past if Lexaeus hadn't suddenly stopped him with a firm hand on his arm.

"Wha-?"

"Shh. Listen." They had stopped just beyond the corned to the stinking byway, and the voice of the whimpering little man could be clearly heard.

"I'm dead, I'm so dead, I'll never make it on time…"

A sad whine could be heard, presumably from the dogs, as the man continued his pathetic complains.

"I still don't understand." Zexion threw a glance at his companion, worried by the tense lines around his mouth. Lexaeus wasn't the type to tense up without reason.

"I thought I heard him mention someth…"

Around the corner the whining took on a new urgency.  
"I'm screwed, so screwed! Two days! Mr. Sykes will _kill_ me!"

Zexion could _feel_ the colour drain from his face.  
"Did he say Saïx?"

"He did, didn't he?" He could hear the slight tremor in Lexaeus voice, matching the sudden tightness in his own chest.

"We need to get going." He tugged Lexaeus into movement, away from the damn alley and the man that unknowingly had warned them, away from prying eyes. They hurried down the street, whispering tersely.

"We must leave."

Lexaeus nodded. "It will be… unpractical to leave without our gear."

"Yes." He frowned. "I do not think he saw us, and we do not know what type of work he's doing for Saïx... for the Organization."

"We'd do our best to expect the worst, then. We'll have to assume that he's looking for us, that Xemnas knows we are alive."

Zexion felt even more bloodless than he had before, and quickened his steps. "You are right, of course. What about the others?"

 _What about the others._ The question hung unanswered between them as the continued away from the damning alleyway, away from the hotel. Finally they came to a stop on a corner, staring at each other in silence.

Finally Lexaeus shook his head. "We are beginning to change, you know. I can't remember behaving like this ever before, not since becoming a Nobody."

Zexion nodded slowly. "You're right. We are changing. I'd love to study it, if we didn't have other more urgent things to worry about."

Lexaeus began to walk again, back towards the hotel. "I have a suggestion. We head back and gather our things. If we see something suspicious on the way we leave this world right away, and if we meet any of the others we'll inform them."

Zexion fell in by his side, eyes flying from face to face in the crowd, from window to window. "Excellent idea."

It would be difficult to manage without the others, but far better than to face the wrath of the Organization.

They reached the hotel without incident and hurried up the stairs at an undignified pace, on the verge of running. The corridor lay empty as they arrived, and Zexion slunk into their room to gather their things as Lexaeus hammered on the other doors.

"What's going on?" Larxene looked grumpy as she peered out, hair tousled around her face.

"Trouble." He told her, not knowing if he was relieved or not that she and Axel was here, that they would all stay together.

Well. If nothing else, the pair would not be left behind to tattle to Saïx.

He turned to find that Vexen and Marluxia were also there, standing by their door with worried faces.  
"Trouble?"

He wasted little breath on words. "We heard a man on the street talk about Saïx. Xemnas has agents on this world."

They all paled. "Where do we go?" It was Marluxia, not even bothering with discussion. Good.

Zexion had returned, still cramming things down into his bag. "I know a place, a world I sometimes visit as a hiding place. I have been quite careful in keeping it a secret. It will be safe for now."

No one raised any argument, just ran back into the rooms to gather bags, clothes and knick-knacks as fast as possible. Zexion handed Lexaeus his bag, sighing.  
"It seems I am being forced to give up secrets at an alarming rate lately."

Lexaeus squeezed his shoulder for a short moment in sympathy before the others came back, a bit wild-eyed but with the gear ready and businesslike attitudes. Zexion allowed himself to feel a spark of hope. They were not captured yet, and they still had a chance. If they acted quickly.

He tore up the Darkness, focusing on his goal. It formed quickly, helped along by the dark tendrils ever present in this world. Larxene sighed behind him.  
"You know guys, this was a good world. Food, ice cream, the TV… not to mention the beds. And all the sex. I'll miss it."

No one replied, but more than one agreed silently with her as they one by one followed Zexion though the Portal and though the swirling mists until they stepped out into another kind of darkness. It was warm and humid, the sensation surrounding them like fine cotton. And all around them, high and low, something glittered.

Saïx had indeed been very interested in knowing all this, had he been in the Big Apple or indeed ever heard of the city. But he wasn't. Instead, he was crouching on the balustrade of the clock tower in Twilight Town, awash with the golden light of sunset.

All his attention was focused on some small marks on the stone, and he studied them at length before smiling a hateful, pleased sneer. As he rose, his gaze swept over the streets below.

What he sought was not here. Not now.

But he'd find it, sooner or later.

He turned from the view, and soon only thin tendrils of Darkness marred the perfect sunset.


	50. Chapter 048 - Necessities

Chapter: 048 - Necessities.  
Location: Ancient Jungle Ruins  
Characters: Vexen, Marluxia, Zexion, Lexaeus, Larxene, Axel.  
Rating/Warnings: PG for use of f-word?  
Summary: The rag-tag team resignedly sets out to explore and master new surroundings. Again.  
Authors' note: This one's been in the works for a _long_ time! Very long. Long enough, in fact, to grant one of said writers the opportunity for not one but _two_ researching trips to the location in question. Is that not dedication? 

**Chapter 048 : Ancient Jungle Ruins – Necessities.**

* * *

There was gold everywhere.

Coins carelessly dumped in heaps or flowing thickly from broken pots and rotted wooden chests. Jewelry fit for kings and queens, cups of jade and staves of ivory, weapons set so heavily with gemstones their function couldn't possibly be anything but ornamental. Marluxia thoughtfully tested the edge of a curved bejeweled dagger with his thumb even as Larxene poked through the piles of treasure, emitting pleased little squeals at some of the more outrageously valuable items.

"You know, Zex" Axel said, looking up from a staring contest with a jewel-eyed silver idol probably weighing more than him, "You could have told us about this place sooner. Like all those times we were out of munny leaps to mind."

Zexion didn't deign him with an answer, growing steadily more annoyed. He'd be forced to give up too many secrets already this trip, and it was only getting worse. Now his personal treasure trove hidey-hole had been revealed.  
Larxene was already delighting in defiling it, perching regally on a large heap of gold, wearing enough jewelry to look like a small, black-robed Christmas tree and balancing not one but two heavy crowns on her head.

As if in retaliation, his sanctuary rebelled. It was insanely hot, the air heavy and unmoving. As though that was not enough, they'd been set on by positively _swarms_ of insects, almost from minute one. Horrible biting, stinging little beasts that buzzed about their eyes, noses and any inch of exposed skin.

"Darkness, it's _hot_ ," Vexen complained, leaning against a marginally cooler stone wall and fanning himself. "Much too hot. And _humid_. And the place is in _ruins_! _This_ is your brilliant hiding place? You actually want us to _stay_ here?"

The Cloaked Schemer locked his jaw, reaching up to slap at the back of his neck, grinding his teeth in annoyance. "It wasn't _like_ this last time," he hissed, annoyed.

Lexaeus was a silent presence at his side, never asking _why_ Zexion had never told him about this place- he knew that the Schemer needed his own time just as anyone else did. Vexen was still bitterly complaining, however, about just about everything.

"This place is intolerable! How can you even _suggest_ staying here for even one more minute!"

"Shut up, Vexen," Zexion put a hand to his forehead, rubbing firmly to try and dispel the sudden ache. "This place is quite remote and safe…"

"It's _something_ , all right," Axel grumbled, unzipping his coat slightly. "Never thought I'd _ever_ say this, but I agree with the old man, this place _sucks_."

"It is secluded, which is exactly what we need if Saïx is truly after us," Zexion hissed. Everyone flinched, and seemed to be reconsidering their first thoughts of the insect-riddled world. "This place is exactly what we need," he repeated firmly, teeth gritted.

"Well," Vexen said, slowly, reluctantly, "at the very least we should try to find shelter, _real_ shelter, not this half-demolished building. It could come tumbling down at any minute."

"There's something around," Zexion said, absently, looking at Lexaeus from the corner of his eye. "I'm certain of it."

"Haven't you properly _explored_ this place?" Marluxia's voice held quite a bit of scorn and distaste. "Honestly…"

"You're welcome to wade into the jungle yourselves," Zexion snapped, smacking a hand to his neck as another bloodsucking insect snagged its evening meal. "Do enjoy yourselves, really."

"Hmph," Vexen looked around, frowning thoughtfully. "This place is certainly… tropical. If nothing else."

"Nice an' warm," Axel agreed, moving over to a gaudy-colored flower. "Huh, if the insects weren't so damn bad, I'd think this place is close to paradise." _Almost_ , he reflected, smile slightly rueful. _Maybe if someone else was here_.

"We should find food, first and foremost," Marluxia took charge, tapping his chin. "We need provisions and water."

Thunder rumbled ominously overhead, and Vexen frowned. "I do hope we're not in the monsoon season. This _is_ a rainforest."

"That means we could be _under_ a steady water source," Axel cast a wary eye overhead. "Dammit, I hate the rain."

"Not as much as _I_ do," Larxene hissed, catlike, scooting back, away from open air, deeper into the shadows under the half-supported roof. "I'll try to find more shelter. Right now."

"I'll look for food," Axel started poking around. "Gotta be tons of it around here. Should be easy to find."

Zexion gave Lexaeus a significant look, and turned away to brood over the loss of his precious and ever-dwindling solitude and secrecy.

There had been monkeys, cheeky little monsters with itchy fingers and grimacing faces. A few well-aimed thunderbolts had sent them running though, with the exception of those unfortunate stated examples who would never run again.  
Killing things seemed to help Larxene work off the frustration of having to leave the comfortable city behind, but the horrible smell of electrocuted monkey sent Vexen staggering off with a strangled excuse about finding water, wide sleeve pressed to his nose.

Lack of civilization he could handle.  
Considering what had driven them away from the last world, he was even eager to find a hiding-place as remote and secluded as possible, and stay there.

It was the heat that got to him. Like a constant pressure closing in from all around, the thick humid air choked him, pounded dull throbs of pain through his skull, and, _yes, of course_ , made his already sweat-damp hair curl and tangle ridiculously.  
He was vaguely aware of Marluxia making some smart-ass comment or other about it, sporting that typical smug smirk of his, and gracelessly growled something rude in response as he brushed past the man.

Hopefully there would be water someplace nearby, _cool_ water to soak in, or possibly, if the miserable heat got too bad, drown himself in.

At least in the desert the burning heat had been _dry_.  
This… this was close to hell.

Axel had braved the jungle, looking at various plants and portions of plants in the hopes of stumbling across something edible. Place like this was bound to have food aplenty, if you just knew what to look for.  
Problem was he didn't.

The undergrowth was killer, vines and roots tangled into a hopeless mess apparently determined to trip him up, and every step was slow and painstaking.  
Marluxia's scythe would have been useful right about now, he bitterly thought to himself, jumping up and down on one leg, trying to free his boot from a particularly stubborn creeper. Hell, _Marluxia_ could have been useful now, had the bastard ever been capable of being, well, useful.

Thunder rolled overhead again, although there still was no rain. Thanks for small comforts, the forest floor would probably be even worse wet. He gave his ensnared foot a final forceful tug, heard the creeper snap and tumbled backwards into the trunk of a convenient tree with an undignified smack.

Foul curses died on his lips as something fell from above and hit him on the head. Blinking he picked it up – seemed to be a fruit of some sort, looking like the unlikely lovechild of a paprika and an apple, but it was nice and juicy and had a ripe, rich smell. Looking up he saw the branches above were heavy with the things.

 _Hah! Knew there was bound to be food around! The mighty Axel triumphs again!_

He polished the fruit on his sleeve and took a bite.

Marluxia had also set out to explore the nearby jungle – the place was _teeming_ with life, the plants so ferociously alive you could all but see them grow, strangling and clawing at each other for a place in the sun. It enlivened him, made his blood flow hotter, made his senses tingle.  
He wouldn't at all mind an… encounter with Vexen in _this_ forest, to be sure.

The scientist had been less than approachable since their arrival, as though the past week's intimacy had never happened, the sudden lack of privacy bringing them back to that frustrating square one of blatant denial. Hopeless impossible man, never did know what he wanted!

With all this vegetation around, however, convenient vines ready to be coaxed into the most fascinating action, perhaps Vexen could be… persuaded.

The appealing thought distracted him enough that he jumped, startled, as a shrill shriek erupted from the forest somewhere to his right. Moving effortlessly through the undergrowth, creepers and roots sulkily bowing away before his superiority, he finally stopped, eyebrows raised in questioning amusement at the sight of Axel dancing a merry little jig, both hands pressed to his mouth, altogether muffled curses failing to properly escape through his fingers.

"What _are_ you doing?" he finally asked, earning himself a hateful glare.

Axel lowered his hands as though to answer, then winced and pressed his hands back over his lips. There was a half-eaten fruit on the ground nearby, and when it became apparent the fire-wielder was in no shape to answer him he strode over and casually picked it up for inspection.

"Hn. Kaju. The nuts and fruits are edible, but the oil can be quite caustic. Not too toxic, but you probably wouldn't want to try to eat it without removing some parts - it would burn your lips right off."

His flashing eyes promising death, something sounding suspiciously like a mangled attempt at "You don't say, you _fuckhead_!" escaped Axels hands. He smirked.

"Why don't you leave the foraging for provisions to those who know what they're doing, Axel? _You_ know how to burn things. I suggest you settle for firewood. Ah, and you may want to go wash out that mouth of yours. One could argue it is, after all, long overdue."

Axel removed one of his hands from his mouth to shoot him a time-honored one-fingered gesture that transcended all forms of communication and stalked off, stumbling gracelessly over roots and twigs on his way.

Marluxia watched him go, smiling softly.  
Taking pleasure in such small misfortunes of your least appreciated traveling companions was petty, granted, but these days you took the satisfaction you could get.

By the time the thunder really broke loose, steady rain pouring over the jungle, it was almost dark, and they had managed to set up a decent camp in one of the still-standing ruins.  
There were three steady walls, at any rate, and half a roof, the rest of the space relatively protected from the elements by their newly acquired, rather colorful tarp.

A small fire was burning, for cooking and light if not for warmth, the flickering glow sending distorted shadows dancing across the ancient walls. The group was unusually silent, no-one very happy with the current state of affairs, but everyone aware enough of the stakes to keep quiet about their displeasure.

Axel was sulking in a corner, his lips still sore enough he preferred to keep his mouth shut. The others didn't seem to mind this at all.

Marluxia had returned triumphant from his explorations, bringing back an armful of fruit - _edible_ fruit, and a handful of herbs to throw on the fire to presumably keep the worst of the insects at bay. Larxene, still heavily laden with jewels enough for a king's ransom, had promptly decided these skills made the pink-haired man the most convenient partner for the current world and had latched onto him with purring affection, any previous liaisons with Axel completely forgotten.

Marluxia didn't seem too displeased with this fact, if only to enjoy the rewarding sulky glares he received from the already subdued redhead.

Vexen was haughtily ignoring the entangled pair from his corner, as though he couldn't care less about the Assassin's choice of partner for the night. The merciless humid heat had finally forced the scientist to temporarily abandon his voluminous leather robes for the thinner shirt he had acquired in London, and even pulling his hair back in a limp ponytail. Even so, he was obviously suffering, ever so often conjuring forth small pieces of ice to press against neck, forehead and wrists for a few moments' blissful cool.

Zexion sat hunched up against a wall next to the towering shape that was Lexaeus, sipping his mandatory tea more for the principle of it than because the tropical night really called for hot drinks. He watched the others in pensive silence, thinking back again to those crucial moments in the big city when they had learned the enemy was near.

When it really mattered, they had chosen to go back, he and Lexaeus, to warn the others rather than cutting their losses and taking off on their own, the safe and _logical_ thing to have done.

He supposed it wasn't entirely different from the group's sudden departure from Twilight Town, although that time it had been Marluxia surprisingly saving them all, all former conflicts temporarily set aside.  
Even him. Even Lexaeus. He remembered.

 _Are we really so convinced the fall of one, of a few would lead to the betrayal and fall of us all_ , he wondered, _that we are willing to risk our own existence to avoid losing even one?_  
Surely it couldn't be concern, that was not how Nobodies _worked_ ; and surely it could not be loyalty, because, well, in a group such as theirs the mere notion was laughable.

Larxene's dumping Axel for Marluxia out of selfish convenience being a case in point.

He couldn't help but feel a tad smug at that, no matter how galling it was to see the two scheming traitors back together. Maybe that would teach Vexen to abandon his colleagues to play with the Neophytes. If the man had had any bone of loyalty in his body-…  
The thought brought him up short, and he frowned.

 _Loyalty, hm. That word again._

If prompted a few months ago, he probably would have stated without hesitation that he considered himself completely loyal to the Organization. To their common goal, if not necessarily to each of the other individuals.

 _Maybe that's what's keeping us together now, worth risking even individual safety for the collective survival_ , he pondered. A certain sense of loyalty, as it were, but not so much to each other than as a means to the common goal of staying alive.  
 _Like… ants, or bees. Zebras, maybe. Little to do with emotion, more with practicality._

The notion made sense, and it pleased him – their irrational behavior lately _had_ been bothering him. But of course, when approached from a suitably sensible angle, it could be made to make sense. Given time, determination and a scientific approach, everything could.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly; the heat made his thoughts somewhat sluggish.  
All the while, Lexaeus was a steady silent presence between him and the rainy night beyond the fire, a solid protective barrier he rather appreciated.

The rain kept falling steadily throughout the night.

No-one seemed in a hurry to lie down and sleep despite having been awake for the better part of two days, on this world and the last. The darkness out there was alive with the sounds of living things; mostly insects and birds, but also the occasional snort, howl or roar alien enough to make their skin crawl.

More than one missed the luxury of soft beds, unhealthy snacks and lockable doors.

The incense-like smell of burning herbs was sweet and heavy in the air, the rhythm of rain on the tarp a steady counterpoint to the quiet crackling of the fire.

Knowing Lexaeus would watch over him in sleep, Zexion finally closed his eyes.

A stray thought about a different sort of loyalty altogether made him frown, but sleep was already stealing him away, and whatever thought had disturbed him was gone like so much morning dew come sunrise.


	51. Chapter 049 – Bare (XXX)

Chapter: 049 – Bare.  
Location: Ancient Jungle Ruins  
Characters: Vexen, Marluxia, Larxene, Zexion, Lexaeus, Axel.  
Rating/Warnings: All out NC-17, I should think? Bondage, non-con, general gay-sexins... Worksafe/underage version is here.  
Summary: Marluxia plays around with jungle vegetation. Vexen is not pleased. You all saw this coming.  
Author's Note: With one author sent on a surprise field-trip and the other two lazing about in India, there was no real time for anyone write a proper chapter. You will however not notice this, as we cleverly plan to dazzle you with wanton, gratuitous pr0n. Look, shiny pr0000n... 

**Chapter 049 : Ancient Jungle Ruins – Bare.**

* * *

A few days in there were still no pursuers, and the Nobodies slowly began relaxing into the new everyday routines.

As though the monkeys had not been bad enough, there turned out to be snakes in the ruins as well, as attracted by the promise of cool and shelter as they were.

Larxene would hunt them for leisure, and for once no-one minded the girl's rather grisly entertainment - not even the Elders much appreciated the thought of waking with a flea-bitten monkey or venomous snake in their bed.

Vexen tried to focus his mind enough to make a sarcastic mental remark to himself about snakes, treacherous Neophytes and all the similarities thereof, but the humid heat was a blowtorch to his usually efficiently spiteful mind, and the venomous thoughts wouldn't really string themselves together.

A short, concise _bah!_ aimed at the world at large had to suffice.

He stomped through the undergrowth surrounding the outskirts of the vast ruin complex, telling himself he was scouting the perimeter or whatever, and absolutely not hiding out of the way of the nasty tempers of the two smallest members of the group. Larxene might be in a literally explosive mood, which was in itself bad enough, but Zexion had been intolerably cranky ever since their arrival, as though blaming every one of them personally for having had to give up one of his precious secrets.

And Zexion got _creative_ when he was cranky, in absolutely horrible petty little ways. Even Lexaeus had already been bullied into hundreds of worthless little chores, Axel sent off swearing to gather more firewood, Marluxia having magically made himself scarce and Larxene only escaping because she was already keeping busy and Zexion didn't like snakes more than the next Nobody.

Vexen had known the young man long enough to choose his battles, and at the moment the sensible thing to do was just stay conveniently out of the way for a while.

Besides scouting the perimeter was strategically important. Really.

Especially if the perimeter turned out to house one of the cool streams he had spotted from the higher vantage point of a collapsed tower earlier.

He figured that would need truly diligent scouting, for quite a long time indeed.

Marluxia was perching thoughtfully on the overgrown marble throne he had found in one of the more remote ruins of the once-magnificent city, hands clasped around one knee.

The humid heat, which could have been bothersome had he still been clad in leather, was actually not too bad in his loose, silken robes, and the part of him always in tune with his element had even found that properly channelled it could be quite invigorating.

He liked the ruin city. Its dignified devastation appealed to him, how it still towered defiantly, marble ribs protruding from the hungry jungle like the remains of a beast too mighty to ever truly be conquered.

The throne room appealed to him as well; once the heart of the mighty beast, the seat of power in a kingdom now reduced to gravel and dust.

He vaguely contemplated inviting Larxene along to his newfound sanctuary away from the others; he was quite certain his Nymph would appreciate the grandeur of the collapsed throne room as much as he. It may not be the throne of Number One they had once aimed for, but here they could rule supreme in a different fashion, king and queen of a ruin city long-dead. There was a certain poetry to it, really.

The last few nights had been… _invigorating_ , too.

There was an infectious energy to Larxene that he hadn't realized he had missed until he had tasted it again, a savage, careless certainty that anything was possible, no goals beyond reach.

That, and she was a very attractive young woman, _writhing like a cat beneath him, nails scratching, fluorescent eyes burning, merciless…_

Marluxia felt quite invigorated indeed by the time the sound of footsteps on stone shattered his reverie and Vexen stalked crossly through the ruins of the throne room.

The _other_ favourite blond.

Marluxia smiled.

Larxene emerged from the treasure room, which had predictably become her favourite haunt, brandishing a gargantuan ivory-white cobra that thrashed wildly in her iron grasp.

"Look what I found!" she triumphantly called out to the Nobodies still lurking around camp, twirling around and draping the white coils over her shoulders like a heavy living necklace.

"Isn't he pretty? He tried to bite me, the dear thing, but his fangs are all dried out. Old and cranky but harmless, just like some people I could mention. Can I keep him?"

"No," Lexaeus firmly responded, simultaneously with Axel's "Oh, hell no!" and Zexion's "Absolutely not."

"Aw," she pouted, "you lot is never any fun. Spoilsports."

She petted the snake's head and gave the cold, scaly lips a loving kiss.

"Don't mind them," she cooed consolingly at the thing. " _I_ like you."

And then she poured lightning through the serpent again and again, laughing joyfully, until it stopped its mad jerking and hung limp and charred and lifeless in her grasp.

Hearing the promising slosh of water nearby, Vexen hurried his steps and didn't even notice the Assassin until he had almost reached the collapsed wall on the far side of the open space, the splash of black-and-pink in the corner of his eye making him turn instinctively. After everything, his first, hardwired response to the telltale contour was still _danger!_

The pretentious idiot had actually managed to find an actual throne and was lounging on it, smirking down at him with intolerable superiority and a certain gleam to his eyes Vexen did not like at all.

Refusing to be goaded into wasting his energy on pointless annoyance, he clenched his jaw and resumed his walking, studiously ignoring the fool. He was warm and uncomfortable and _not_ in the mood for Marluxia's games at the moment.

"You're in quite a hurry, there, dearest Vexen. Wherever could you be heading that's so important? Zexion didn't send you to fetch water or something equally stupid, did he?"

It was fully possible to tune out the man's intolerably smug voice, all it took was to fix one's gaze on that far wall and keep walking.

Of course the downside to this strategy meant not watching where he was going, and after only three steps his foot caught on a creeper and sent him stumbling gracelessly, almost losing his balance. Would have, hadn't there been a hand elegantly catching his elbow and steadying him. Damn Marluxia and his superhuman speed.

He glared at the Assassin and jerked his elbow free.

"What do you want, Marluxia?"

The younger man feigned surprised innocence to perfection at him.

"Want? _You_ were the one who came walking through _my_ resting place, Vexen. By all accounts I should be the one asking that question."

Brushing by the man, Vexen muttered something irritable on the lines of "Just passing through" over his shoulder.

This time he only got two steps before tripping, and this time the creeper tangled around his ankle. _Once is happenstance, twice coincidence…_

"You didn't answer the question, Vexen."

Marluxia's voice was dangerously mild, and he found himself baring his teeth in a growl as he jerked his foot free with a bit more force than necessary.

One step, and vines were ensnaring his ankles and knees, and he was forced to stop dead in his tracks or fall over.

 _And thrice is confirmed bloody enemy action._

" What the _hell_ are you playing at, Marluxia!" he snarled, already thin patience snapping.

Suddenly the rose-haired man was right in front of him, intense eyes catching and holding his.

"I really rather wish you would, my dearest. It's not a difficult question as such. Is a straightforward answer really that much to ask?"

"What?" he snapped, confused.

"What is it that you _want_ , Vexen?"

If you really listened for it, there was an almost petulant undertone to the soft voice. Momentarily thrown he stared at the younger man.

There was a firm hand on his chest now, slender fingers trailing nonsense patterns down his stomach; through his thin shirt he could feel the warmth of the touch and had to angrily will his body not to respond.

"I have tried figuring you out for quite a long time now, and I still have to admit myself utterly confounded," Marluxia said bluntly, frowning, thoughtful. "One moment this, next moment that. One moment you're all but forcing yourself upon me, next you want nothing to do with me. One moment we can talk about anything for hours, next you won't say a word to me. I don't _understand_ you, Vexen. _What_ is it that you _want_?"

Marluxia held his gaze, the question in his brilliant blue eyes uncomfortably earnest and hungry. Vexen stared at him.

It was far too hot for this, he concluded, too hot and damp and uncomfortable and Marluxia trying on sincerity for fits was not only disturbing but _bothersome_.

"Since when do you give a damn about what _I_ want", he muttered and tugged at the restraints around his legs.

Marluxia's eyes widened slightly, then narrowed, and there was a sudden hardness to the line of his mouth.

"Fine," he finally said, after a few moments silence, the velvet softness back in his voice. "Fine," he repeated, harsher, and suddenly there was a hand grabbing a fistful of his hair, and he was none-too-gently pulled down for a forceful kiss, whatever sputtered protests efficiently silenced.

He could _feel_ the vines around his legs snaking their way up his thighs, another already reaching from the pillars above to wind around one wrist, and no matter how he struggled there was no give whatsoever.

Much too hot already, and the nimble fingers unbuttoning his shirt and _sweet Darkness_ pinching down hard on both nipples did nothing at all to help lower his temperature, leaving him flustered and squirming helplessly.

"I take it then that this _is_ what you want from me," Marluxia murmured in his ear, catching it painfully between his teeth. "At least like this you are predictable."

He opened his mouth to growl something, anything, to leave no doubt whatsoever about his defiance, but another coiling vine from above caught him around his neck, then around the face, forcing itself between his lips, bitter and rough, efficiently gagging him.

Marluxia lovingly caressed his cheek.

"If you don't want to talk to me, by all means, keep your mouth shut."

He tried to swear, but only strangled croaks escaped, and then there was a hand in his pants and his knees almost buckled.

"Yes, this _is_ what you want, isn't it? To have those pesky choices taken away from you. To be _used_. You always did come back for more."

Strong fingers played with the cord holding his hair back, pulling his head back painfully before the string snapped and tangled blond hair fell into his flustered face, blinding him. There were vines and creepers all around now, twisting around his limbs and stretching him out like a puppet on a hundred strings.

"Perhaps you're not so hard to figure out after all."

The scorn in the voice so soft it nearly mimicked affection.

His pants were tugged down to his knees, and then there was the whisper of cool silk against his exposed skin as Marluxia slid behind him, sweeping his own billowing robes aside, and suddenly he tensed in anticipation.

There was a short searing pain, of course, but it was a pain both familiar and almost sweet, and the groan that escaped his gagged mouth was more of a needy whimper than a growl.

"You know I will always be here to hurt you just like you want me to, Vexen."

Velvet petal lips brushing his hair aside to ghost against the burning skin of the nape of his neck.

"Is that not dedication?"

He was far, far too hot; sweaty, dizzy, nauseous with it, and yet the merciless heat only intensified every sensation feverishly, the waves of pleasure stabbed through him with every hard, fast thrust. He gave another strangled whimper as those strong fingers clenched down on his nipples again, twisting until his back arched helplessly.

"Is that not love?"

Marluxia's voice was so quiet he didn't even catch the words, just focused on breathing in short, shallow sobs through his nose as the inevitable climax hit and hit hard.

Marluxia would not release him until he was thoroughly done, though, and by the time the vines finally went limp enough to let him loose he collapsed into a heap on the cracked marble floor, utterly spent and so weak with the heat he felt sick.

He spat out the bitter, ragged stalk from his mouth, wiped his damp hair out of his face and hissed a hoarse and utterly undignified curse at the smiling pink-haired man standing over him, his head throbbing dully with over-exertion and more likely than not a generous heat stroke.

A helping hand was offered him but he ignored it and dragged himself unsteadily to his feet, slapped it aside when it made a gesture as to steady him, followed through with a satisfying slap across the Assassin's surprised face for good measure.

"Go to _hell_ , Marluxia," he eloquently managed, then dizzily stumbled off towards the sound of running water.

And it wasn't until much, much later, submerged to his nose in cool water, that Vexen asked himself why he hadn't just frozen the vile bastard over and walked away when he had the chance.

The heat must be getting to his sense of rational reasoning.

That was probably it.

Stupid Marluxia.


	52. Chapter 050 – What Friends Are For

Chapter: 050 – What Friends Are For.  
Location: Ancient Jungle Ruins.  
Characters: Vexen, Marluxia, Zexion, Lexaeus, Larxene, Axel.  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (use of the f-word).  
Summary: It is not a good time to be had in the jungle. Our Renegades cope as well as they can. That is, not at all.  
Author's Note: Wow, chapter 50! An anniversary worth celebrating. Thank you all for being with us this far! :-) 

**Chapter 050 : Ancient Jungle Ruins – What Friends Are For.**

* * *

More days passed, all equally hot, stuffy and plagued by mosquitoes. People started to avoid each other as much as was possible given the situation, because every meeting seemed to end in insults, arguments and general grief.

Marluxia pondered this as he sat on the steps leading into Zexion's treasure trove. Even he had begun to suffer under the oppressive heat. This world really was rather horrible. How come that six individuals, so openly detesting each other, still chose to remain together in such conditions? Maybe Nobodies really could not break free of habits once formed, like marionettes pulled along by their strings. Or maybe it was only the fear of discovery at work, hanging over them all like smoke.

Absentmindedly he rubbed his cheek. At least the last of the swelling and discoloration had disappeared by now. The man could hit hard when he chose to. Larxene had tittered gaily as he stoically returned with a vivid red imprint of Vexen's hand across his cheek. Her loud and detailed musings on just how it had ended up there had made the Graceful Assassin retreat to a shadowy corner to lick his wounded pride and drawn equal amounts of scorn (from Zexion and Lexaeus) and leers (from Axel).

At least _she_ didn't feel the need to mark his face after intimate encounters.

Against his will he felt his gaze being drawn back to the man across the clearing. Vexen had begun to wear his coat again, though he didn't seem to bear the climate any better than before. The humid heat made the tall man wilt like a flower, long hair tangled and plastered against a forehead burnt by the sun and wet with sticky sweat. He had taken to huddling in a corner of the clearing, snapping at anyone who attempted conversation and getting into regular hissy-fits with Zexion over what chores needed done and by whom.

Marluxia watched him from across the sunlit ground. The stubborn man had been refusing to even acknowledge him these last few days. Impossible bastard.

How was he ever supposed to figure the man out when he wouldn't even lower his academic self to speak to him? Marluxia had _tried_ , and damn the man for making the Graceful Assassin humble himself like that.

At least the Vexen of Castle Oblivion had been easy to understand, easy to control. Now, a "no" might mean no, or it might mean yes, and damn it if he could understand how that brilliant, cranky mind operated behind those green eyes.

Vexen glanced around the clearing and turned away his face with an almost audible hiss of disgust as he caught sight of Marluxia. Realizing he'd been staring, Marluxia hastily tore his gaze away with a scowl. Impossible!

Zexion, meanwhile, had reached even Larxene in his hunt for someone to vent his foul mood on.

"Get your own damn water." The girl was having none of it, snarling back at Schemer and Silent Hero both and stalked off into the ruins. Zexion glowered at her disappearing back.

"Ungrateful little bitch."

No one was feeling like arguing the point with Zexion already casting eyes about for new victims, instead choosing to make themselves equally scarce. Marluxia slipped into the blissful gloom of the treasure chamber.

The glitter of untold riches sparkled like stars in the darkness before his eyes became accustomed to the dark room. He could understand why Larxene had become so fond of the place. The lure of the gems and gold sang a tune as old as vice itself, a blatant display of wealth and power. He wouldn't mind a tryst in here, had it not been for the others always loitering around just outside the door. Larxene would surely find the idea delightful. The Nymph would relish in a heap of gold as a mattress for the night.

Strolling around the heaps scattered around the floor, he came upon a pile of crowns resting on an inlaid table. Doubtlessly Larxene's collection. If it wasn't for the unbearable weather, the girl would surely wear even more necklaces, rings and assorted jewellery than she already did. She all but jangled when she walked.

There was a large mirror against the wall, its tarnished silver surface still showing the room with a varnish of greenish patina. Marluxia found himself casting a furtive glance over his shoulder, then caught himself. That was just ridiculous. He surely did not fear an audience, nor worried about the others' views on his behaviour…

The first crown was much too small, but the second – a golden one set with enormous rubies- fit like it had been made for him. He smiled at his reflection, standing a bit straighter as he felt the heavy weight of it rest upon his head. He had always known he was meant to wear a crown.

In the old mirror his shape wavered in the dim lights. Stepping a bit closer, he turned his head to glance at his profile out of the corner of his eyes. Yes, it _did_ look good. Natural. Maybe, if things had been any different… Not that Xemnas had ever worn a crown.

The light suddenly grew even fainter as a black shape momentarily blocked the entrance. Marluxia whirled around and tore the crown from his head as steps announced he was not alone.

It was not until Larxene was standing in front of him that he realized he was still hiding the crown behind his back. _Like an abashed schoolboy._. Scowling, he dropped it as quietly as he could and smiled his best smile.

"I see you have managed to pass by the angry little terrier holding his domain outside that door, dearest."

Larxene leaned over to curiously glance behind him at the _thud_ in the pile of coins, but seemed happy enough to be distracted.

"It wasn't easy. The little squirt seems to get nastier by the day. I suspect Lex isn't giving him any. Probably can't get it up in this heat."

He smiled at her ire. "We are not being jealous, are we?"

"Bah! Just like Zexion, hogging all that for himself. And he's calling me ungrateful."

Smilingly, she draped himself over his arm. "And of course I'm not jealous, I got something here that doesn't mind the heat in the least."

He smiled back, and considered that suggestion about the pile of gold. But the others were still outside. Inconvenient. Larxene, however, put an end to that line of thought.

"And speaking of the terrier, he's saying that dinner's ready. It's monkey and roots."

Marluxia smiled a sharp smile. "So he _did_ manage to get even you to do something for him. I'm impressed."

Her eyes darkened and she punched his shoulder, before retuning to hooking her arm though his and leading him towards the door.

"Don't worry, sweet. I'm sure Zexion will soon realize how rude his manners are, don't you think?"

Zexion really was an efficient bastard; Marluxia had to hand it to him. Probably they would all starve to death if the man wasn't around to bully Axel into getting firewood, Vexen to lug water and Lexaeus to smash the nearest monkey into instantly tenderized meat.

As they were sitting around the fire after the meal, he eyed the pile of plates with a quiet sigh. Cleaning the dishes wasn't really any better in warm water than in freezing. Zexion had already begun to give him pointed looks. Gathering his dignity as best as he could, he carefully broached the subject.

"I have a suggestion. Is it really fair that I do the dishes every time? It would be much more convenient if we could take turns. I'd be much more useful gathering food in this world than elbow deep in the creek."

The others looked at each other. "Nah, you're doing such a great job!"

Marluxia gnashed his teeth. " _Thank_ you, Axel."

"Very welcome." The fire wielders smirk made Marluxia's finger's twitch.

"He has a point, though." Lexaeus said, sitting next to Zexion. "It's working well as it is now. Why change it?"

"I am merely suggesting it would be more efficient for everyone if I could sometimes do other tasks."

"Very noble of you. I shall be sure to remember your eagerness for other tasks," Zexion observed dryly. "You're not forgetting yourself, are you?"

"Forgetting myself?" This was beneath him, damnit!

Vexen snorted, finally accepting his presence. "You're doing the dishes to remind you, Marluxia, that you do not stand above us."

 _How could I ever forget that, with all of you so happily reminding me?_

Zexion nodded. "Yes."

"I am not "forgetting myself". It's merely unpractical." He hated how stiff he sounded. Why had he even tried?

"Let's put it to the vote, shell we?"

"No need." He could not hold back the snarl, and snatched up the plates and cups, stalking out of the clearing to get away from the other's smirks.

Emotionless green eyes followed his steps.

The water was lukewarm and the bottom was slimy. Marluxia swore quietly as he scrubbed away the grease. He should have known better than to believe that anyone would be rational given their current mindset. _Like dogs snapping at each other._

The leaves rustled behind him as he knelt on the bank, and he turned around fully expecting Larxene to have made him company by the river side.

He blinked as Vexen emerged from the trees, looming over him like a disapproving shadow. The man's face was set in a scowl, his black robe zipped right up to his neck.

Marluxia recovered. "Vexen. What a pleasant surprise. Come to make sure I'm not forgetting myself?"

If the man heard the irony of his voice, he did not react to it. Instead he made his way over the uneven ground, sitting down on a log and haughtily surveying the scene.

Marluxia gave him an irritated glance, then purposely turned his back to him and went on with his work. Let Vexen gloat if he wanted to.

It took a few minutes before he heard a throat being clearing behind him. "That was stupid even for you, you know."

He did not bother to answer, instead concentrating on rinsing a cup.

The rustle of leather. "Why even make the effort of bringing it up? It is not like anyone was about to change their mind…"

He put the cup down onto a rock. "Maybe I hoped for reason to prevail, in the face of all evidence."

A snort. "You, of all people, talking about reason?"

"What do you mean?" He could not help but being curious at what had drawn Vexen out here, despite the Academic's distance since the last world.

"When have _you_ ever bothered about reason? You have never wanted anything else than the world bent to your will."

He splashed the next plate into the water with perhaps more force than necessary. "So _that's_ why you are here."

"Now I don't quite follow you." Vexen's voice was as cold and stiff as his element.

"Don't try and deny that you have come to whine about three days ago."

The silence behind him was beginning to turn icy in increasingly literal ways. A chill ran down his back, a feeling almost welcome in the current sticky heat.

"Whine?" Vexen's anger was evident and cold, like his voice, and Marluxia found himself shivering again, pleasantly, even as his irritation grew.

"Why are you so _difficult_? Why can you never decide that you want? Always changing."

"There can have been no misconceptions about what I did or did not want three days ago, Marluxia."

It was very tempting to turn around and glare at the man, but for some reason Vexen seemed more inclined to talk to his back than his face. Not wanting to risk this chance to actually get some answers out of the man, Marluxia stayed where he was, rinsing another cup. It was very well rinsed by now.

"No? Then why didn't you just tell me your reasons?"

"I have no obligation to explain why _not_ to have sex with you. It's the opposite that baffles logic."

Vexen sounded more dryly disgusted with himself than anything else. Marluxia made an angry sound.

"How am I to know what you want, when you won't tell me? You have always wanted me to make the choices for you. You always relished in having control taken away. Don't tell me you did not enjoy it! I know you did!"

The last one was all but shouted, accompanied by the cup almost being smashed down onto the rock.

There was no immediate reply from the direction of log. When it finally came, it was so quiet he had to strain his ears. "Orgasm does not equal consent."

Marluxia snorted, grabbing a spoon and ducking it into the tepid water. "Really? I have a hard time following that reasoning."

More rustling of leather as Vexen rose.

"I can see this is getting us nowhere. Maybe it was foolish of me to attempt a civilized discussion. I shall leave you to the dishes and that blonde little bitch."

There was vitriol in his voice that caught Marluxia somewhat off guard.

"Don't go." He spoke right out, still not turning to look. He could hear Vexen's pausing.

"No? Then what do you have to say that isn't just another justification for _your_ needs and wants?"

"It is not like that."

This time, Vexen did not pause to speak before disappearing between the trees. Marluxia remained on his knees, listening until the last sounds of the man gracelessly stumbling though the forest had abated and then furiously smashed the ground with his fist.

Damn that haughty, stupid unreasonable old fool!

Breathing hard, he had a sudden urge to conjure up his scythe and make short work of the dishes, the trees and most of the surrounding landscape. A tinkling, cruel laugh interrupted him.

"Well, that was quite a show."

"Larxene?"

He rose and turned to find the Nymph strolling out of the dense bushes, giggling delightedly.

"Poor Marluxia. You must _really_ have been desperate."

"How long have you been here?" he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Me? Oh, for a while. I thought you could use some company while carrying out your duties to the group so diligently. Seems like someone else got the idea before me."

She pouted, playful in her cruelty.

"I really should have hurried here sooner, I could have saved you from some horrible company."

Marluxia sighed and bent down to collect the clean dishes.

"My thanks for your noble intentions, Larxene. Whatever would I do without you?"

She giggled.

"You'd probably wither away. And seeing how frantic you get if I abandon you even for an instant… or maybe you just have a thing for gross old men?"

He had to bite his lip.

"I do not have _a thing_ for Vexen, Larxene. He is merely… amusing."

"Yes, I can really see you laughing now, my love. Why not forget him and seek prettier, younger and altogether lovelier company?"

He gave her his best bow.

"Ah, but I don't have to seek that. It is already here beside me in all its glory."

No matter how they all might avoid each other during the day, when night fell they all gathered around the clearing and sought to find sleep among the biting mosquitoes and the sounds from the surrounding jungle. The blankets they had brought from the big city had hardly seen any use, apart from serving as mats to soften the hard stone a fraction. Marluxia preferred the vegetation. It was always eager to provide a serviceable resting place for the night.

He slapped another biting bug from his neck and then closed his eyes. The others were doing the same all around him. Lexaeus and Zexion had commandeered a shadowy niche for themselves; muffled sounds came from that direction. He could hear Larxene lazily zap bugs with her fingertips nearby, Axel muttering as he huddled on guard duty by the fire. From Vexen's corner came nothing but determined silence.

He was all but lulled into sleep by the chirping of insects and the rustling of the leaves as a _shriek_ cut though the night.

Marluxia was up and on his feet before he even had the time to wake up.

There were frantic, panicky movements in Zexion's and Lexaeus' corner. Axel made the fire flare up, flooding the glade with light.

"Where is it? Where _is_ it?!"

It was Zexion's voice, high pitched and shrill. It was still hard to make out anything in the shadowy niche in the flickering firelight. Marluxia caught a confused glance of flapping cloth and kicking feet.

"What's going on?"

It was Vexen, roused from his sleep and equally parts irate and worried.

"A snake! There was a fucking snake in my blankets!"

Zexion emerged into the light, dragging the pupae-like sleeping sack behind him and frenetically shaking it.

"I didn't see where it went!"

Now everyone was on their feet, staring into the shadows after moving forms and trying to keep eyes all over the floor.

Zexion finally pulled down the zipper on the sack. A pale, long body fell out, gathering itself on the floor and raising the hooded head threateningly.

Zexion's scream was loud enough to wake the birds sleeping above. Axel later compared it to a "little sissy girl" before Larxene had issues with his comparisons.

The white king cobra hissed, snapping at the black booted feet surrounding it. Marluxia kept his gaze on it, registering in the corner of his eye how Lexaeus had pulled out his tomahawk and was bearing down on the animal.

But fast as he was, Zexion was faster. The Schemer suddenly held his beloved Lexicon in his hands, opening it up and thrusting it before him even as the cobra _lunged_.

Lexaeus' weapon crashed into the ground where the snake had been, and in the shifting of bodies and shadows it was impossible to say what really happened.

"Did you get it?" Axel sounded more nervous than perhaps he wanted to let on. Zexion straightened, cradling his Book in his arms with eyes spitting fire.

"What the _hell_ was that thing doing in my sleeping sack?! Larxene!"

"What? What are you accusing _me_ for? I was sleeping! Like a baby."

Her wide, innocent eyes and batting eyelids didn't seem to have the desired effect.

"Don't give me that. That was your damn snake!"

Zexion was hissing, taking no heed of Lexaeus that moved closer with a questioning glance.

" _My_ snake, Zexion?"

Now Larxene was not trying to hide the amusement in her voice anymore.

"This one!"

He flung the book open and held it up for her to see. An illustration snaked its way over both pages, a black-and-white drawing of a cobra in the moment of strike.

"Don't try and tell me this _isn't_ the snake from before!"

"But, darling, you didn't let me keep that one!" She gave him a doe-eyed look. "So I just had to let the dear thing back into its natural environment, didn't I?"

"Like hell you did!"

Larxene laughed her cruelly amused laugh.

"Of course I did! Why, the snake must simply like short, bossy, self-important slave drivers."

Lexaeus placed a calming hand on Zexion's shoulder. The shorter man gave it an irritated look before huffing and stalking back to his hidey hole, dragging along the blanket.

Axel let the fire falter.

"Jeez, Larxene!"

"Oh, not you too!"

She gave him a look of artful innocence, and he chuckled as he returned to sit by the fireside.

"Just leave _my_ blankets the hell alone!"

It took time before sleep came to exhausted Nobodies that night.


	53. Chapter 051 – In the Forests of the Nigh

Chapter: 051 – In the Forests of the Night.  
Location: Ancient Jungle Ruins.  
Characters: Zexion, Lexaeus, Vexen, Marluxia, Larxene, Axel.  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13.  
Summary: I've got a fever. And the last thing I need is more cowbell. Things get a little worse for our dear companions... 

**Chapter 051 : Ancient Jungle Ruins – In the Forests of the Night.**

* * *

Zexion was the first to fall ill.

It wasn't surprising, given that his immune system was still recovering from the nasty cold that had plagued him for the past few weeks. But it was an unexpected blow that no one had seen coming.

They really should have expected something to happen. Things were going, all things considered, much too well. There was no sign of the Organization. No sign that Saix had ever found out they had been discovered or followed. Everything was just fine.

Sure, the bickering between Larxene and Vexen was rather annoying. Marluxia could have done without his own mild crises of potential loyalties himself, but compared to the gut-wrenching fear of discovery, this was rather almost _nice_.

And then one morning, Zexion left alone to walk, feeling too hot and irritable with everyone, claiming he would forage for supplies and food while gone.

He didn't return, and Lexaeus left alone to bring him back. He'd returned with a shaking, sweating, limp armful of Nobody, looking very grave.

The debate began the moment Lexaeus laid Zexion down and settled in to watch over him, all attention focused on him.

"We can't keep him here," Axel said, glancing over his shoulder. "And it's not like he's much use anyway."

"That isn't true," Vexen glared at the younger Nobody, arms crossing. "He is as useful as any of us, as important to the group. He gets us plenty of food, and no shortage of safe passages and roofs over our heads…"

"He is a liability now," Marluxia added, with a seeming reluctance. Zexion was useful, really, able to soothe angry farmers with pitchforks (usually) and greasing just the right palms to let them sleep in a stable somewhere. "We can't risk infection spreading. If he's not well by tomorrow evening, we should take him a distance away and leave him."

"We don't know what kind of disease he's got," Larxene's expression was one of utter distaste. "He could be contagious. We could all be dead right now." Shaking her head, she snuggled up to Marluxia's arm.

"If he was contagious, we'd all have it by now, or at least showing some signs," Vexen's lip curled. "We shouldn't leave him. Lexaeus probably won't, and then we'd be down two members. Two _important_ members," he glowered at Axel.

Marluxia rubbed his forehead. "I've said my piece, and I'm sticking to it. If he's not better in twenty-four hours, we leave him."

"You're _not_ in charge here," Vexen hissed, but Axel interrupted him.

"It's reasonable enough. I agree to it."

"Me, too," Larxene chimed in, still leaning on Marluxia's arm.

Vexen, outnumbered, shut his mouth and glared at Marluxia. He stood, turned his back on his erstwhile lover and stalked over to sit with Lexaeus.

Marluxia ignored the brief touch of regret that was rapidly overlain by outright annoyance at the stubborn man. He made it a note of personal pride to purposefully enjoy Larxene's presence a little more than usual that evening.

In the morning, he was much, much less annoyed. Zexion was all but comatose, and Vexen was sitting beneath a tree outside the ruins, pale and shaking. Lexaeus had his hand on his forehead, and was shaking his head a little.

Marluxia all but flew across the clearing, looming up behind Lexaeus. "What's going on?"

"He's burning up," Lexaeus didn't startle, didn't even look at him. "They both are." Now he looked at Marluxia, expression blank. "I suppose we'll leave them both."

Marluxia was struck dumb. "We can't leave him," he said, almost automatically.

Lexaeus said nothing, standing and returning to Zexion's side, soothing the weakly thrashing Nobody with a single touch.

Vexen was staring at and through Marluxia, lidded eyes gone wide with something Marluxia couldn't identify. "Vexen."

"Don't come near me," and Vexen almost sounded rational, if it weren't for the wideness of his eyes. "Don't come near me."

"Do you know who I am?" Marluxia couldn't decide on a tactic. This was so utterly out of his field of expertise he was tempted to call Lexaeus back and pathetically beg for help.

However, Lexaeus had his own hands full as Zexion had begun to thrash again, garbled words becoming louder and awakening the other neophytes. Lexaeus' voice did nothing to soothe him; clearly, Zexion had demons plaguing him unlike anything Marluxia had imagined he had.

He supposed anyone who helped bring the darkness upon their world had their own nightmares.

For a moment, he sympathized, then turned his attention back to Vexen. "Vexen?"

"Don't touch me." Vexen drew further away, though Marluxia had made no move to touch him. "Don't. Don't."

"Do you know who I am," Marluxia repeated, trying to pitch his voice low and soothing. "Vexen? It's Marluxia. You know me."

"It's not my fault. It isn't."

Marluxia licked his lips. "Of course it isn't, Vexen… of course. Now… let me take your hand, we'll lay down…"

"Don't touch me!" Vexen pulled further away, sliding off the tree trunk and hitting the ground hard. Marluxia winced faintly, but ignored the elder's words this time, moving quickly to pull him into his arms.

"Vexen, calm down. It's Marluxia. I _know_ you remember, stop this foolishness!"

"So he's sick too," Axel was leaning over Marluxia's shoulder, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Great. I suppose we're all next."

"Shut up," Marluxia snapped before he could even think about it, drawing Vexen close and effectively pinning the struggling scientist. "Get some water or something, make yourself useful!"

Axel rolled his eyes and backed away with a mocking bow, muttering about hypocrisy and positions of power.

Marluxia gave him a glare, and as a result, only felt the searing cold burn across his arms and chest. Yelping, he dropped Vexen in shock, staring down at the wide swath of frozen silk the elder had caused.

Hitting the ground seemed to jar sense back into Vexen, and he lay still, eyes closed, shuddering from head to foot. Marluxia tried to brush the ice from his arms, but it was no good, frozen straight down to the skin. And, to make it worse, the front was iced shut, so he couldn't untie the damned robe to get it all the way off.

 _I'll just let it melt then, damn it._ He rested a hand on Vexen's forehead, and the scientist moaned, leaning into the cold touch of his iced hand.

"What is this sickness?" he murmured, looking across the clearing at Lexaeus. The larger Nobody simply shook his head and stroked Zexion's hair.

"I don't know. But he's burning up. We need to get him cooled off."

"And the only one of us who can manage that is just as ill," Marluxia cursed softly, touching Vexen's forehead with his warmer hand and shivered. "He's warm," he murmured, shaking his head. "He's never warm."

"Can you convince him to conjure some ice?" Lexaeus glanced over at him.

"No. He did it a moment ago in a panic. But it was a defensive mechanism only, he's… he's unconscious now." Marluxia carefully brushed Vexen's hair back from his face.

"Of course," Lexaeus murmured, returning his attention to Zexion.

Marluxia closed his eyes, cursing himself for his foolish words earlier. Surely Axel would hold him to it, though now with two ill and two caretakers, they outnumbered the dissenters.

Still. Without Axel, making a fire for warmth was difficult-to-impossible, and no one could hunt like Larxene.

But Vexen. No. He _could_ leave Vexen behind. What was this foolishness, this desire to stay? It was nonsense; he was Marluxia, the former Lord of Castle Oblivion, former Number Eleven of Organization Thirteen, fearless, heartless and emotionless.

Former. So many formers in that statement, more than he knew. In fact, he was fairly certain that _heartless_ was the only one that still applied.

He suddenly felt so _tired_ , and that sent a bolt of fear through him. _Am I falling ill myself?_ Shaking his head rapidly, he looked up to see Axel returning with water, looking sour.

"So many damn bugs in this place," he threw the waterskin down, scratching at the back of his neck. "I hate this. Can't we just leave? The longer we stay the more dangerous it is, anyway."

"At least there aren't people trying to kill us here," Marluxia attempted to reason with him. "We'll just wait another day or so."

"I saw a tiger," Larxene, following Axel, dumped a small rodent-like animal on the ground. "Just so you know. It'll probably try to kill us tonight."

"Well, aren't _you_ just so cheerful about that," Axel snapped, starting a fire to boil the water. "Why didn't you kill the damn thing?"

"I tried," Larxene shrugged. "It was fast. But it didn't like the fire my lightning caused when it hit a tree, so maybe if you stay awake on watch and fry it…"

"What? I was on watch last night, it's your turn!"

Marluxia rolled his eyes, rubbing his forehead. Already, a headache was forming between his temples. "Shut up. Axel, she's right. Go to sleep now and be awake by nightfall."

"Oh, so you've decided to be a _leader_ again, huh? You stupid fuck, you got us into this in the first place!" Flame licked along Axel's fingers, his temper frayed to the breaking point. "Go screw yourself. All of a sudden _you_ want to stay, just because _your_ sex toy is sick too. You were ready to walk off and leave Zexion!"

"So were you," Marluxia pointed out.

"Shut the hell up!" Axel's temper utterly snapped, and his chakrams were in his hand and spinning before Marluxia could say anything to calm him down. "If you think you still give the orders around here, I think it's time for a reminder as to why you _don't_ -"

"I have as much input as any other, and I can change my mind at any time…" Marluxia carefully stood, so as not to disturb Vexen, who had finally calmed, and reached for the power to summon his scythe, eyes never leaving Axel.

"Oh, when it suits you? Like hell. You still think you're the boss around here. I've had enough of that. We don't have to follow your orders, and we don't have to do a damn thing you say!" Axel lunged for Marluxia, who held his scythe out and braced for the impact, teeth gritted.

One blow from Lexaeus' tomahawk sent Axel flying back, another knocked the scythe aside, and Marluxia barely held onto his weapon. "Enough," the Silent Hero said, voice calm, but commanding. "Both of you. You're acting like children. Zexion wants to speak."

"Goddamn puppet, fucking mouthpiece, nothing but…" Axel's voice trailed off as Lexaeus leveled the tomahawk at his head.

"Zexion wants to speak," he repeated firmly. "And he says he may not have another chance."

Zexion had pulled himself into a sitting position, and Lexaeus knelt quickly to support his friend. Sweat matted silver-blue hair to his forehead, and he could only see out of one glassy, glazed eye. He was paler than usual, the only spots of color two pink dots on his cheeks. He stared at the neophytes and swallowed thickly, painfully. "Water?" he croaked, and Axel- somewhat stiffly, but willingly- brought him a small cupful of the now-tepid water.

He drank it carefully, then set it aside, shivering. "Do you know what's wrong with us?" At four headshakes, he sighed painfully. "Then leave. If we recover, we can catch up to you. If not… something here will end our suffering quickly."

"No," Lexaeus rumbled. "We should stick together. We are stronger as a whole than as scattered pieces." At this, he glared at Axel and Marluxia, who simply looked sheepish and unaffected respectively.

"You are weakened with non-functioning parts of a whole," Zexion shook his head. "And you do not want to fall ill yourselves. Otherwise we may all die here, in his wretched place."

"I will not leave you," Lexaeus said firmly. "Nor Vexen."

Zexion's eyes closed, and he sighed. "Foolish," he murmured, but didn't argue, letting himself fall back against the larger Nobody's chest. "I, for one, will understand if you leave. Vexen… I don't know. But I will understand."

"We aren't leaving for at least another day," Marluxia said firmly. Axel made an angry noise, but kept his mouth shut.

Zexion sighed, starting to shudder more violently. "It's so cold," he said, distantly. "I'm so cold, Elaeus."

Lexaeus shushed him gently, glancing at Marluxia and shaking his head a little to signify that the meeting was over.

Marluxia returned to Vexen's side. The elder hadn't moved an inch, breathing shallow, skin still burning to the touch.

Suddenly, Marluxia had to come to terms with the fact that Vexen may very well die here. As would Zexion. Perhaps someone else would fall ill. Perhaps _he_ would.

How could they prevent the disease if they had no idea what caused it?

Perhaps he _would_ have to leave Vexen behind after all.

Shivering, but not with cold, he held the other Nobody close. _You'd better get healthy, you worthless fool… And fast. I don't want to lose you, damn you._

***

Axel was tired. He was really, really fucking tired. And Larxene hadn't let him anywhere near her, the bitch, too busy being all over that pink-haired jackass.

 _Thinks she can just flipflop back and forth between the two of us, huh? Some of us don't appreciate being used, even if that worthless wanna-be leader Marluxia does. You think just because the two of you were so cozy back in Oblivion he's gonna stick around with you? You don't know shit._

He was also annoyed at the "executive decision" to sleep outside, away from the ruins. _I don't see how that'll help. I guess as long as it's not raining and there aren't any damn bugs out here… I guess it might help slow or stop the spread of this disease. As long as we aren't already all carrying it._

That made him feel slightly ill with worry. He hated being sick, and knew damn well that Marluxia and the others wouldn't _hesitate_ at dropping him like a bag of hot rocks if he got sick like the other two.

 _So I just have to hope for the best right now, I guess. Hope the disease isn't airborn. Hope the fresh air does people some good. Or something._

His eyes half-drooped, the fire before him crackling and soothing him like an old friend. _Mm. Just a little nap, just a little._

The fire popped, and Axel shifted his weight a bit more, relaxing. _It's not so bad here at night, without the damn bugs._

Something about that chewed at the back of his mind, something Roxas, of all people, had told him. Something about jungles and bugs and disease.

 _Jungles have a lot of bugs, that's probably it. I'm probably making up for some kind of quick fix. That and I'm probably so tired, I'm hallucinating. Hell, maybe if I stay awake long enough, I'll hallucinate that Roxas'll show up._

Biting the inside of his cheek, he thought better of that statement. _If Roxas shows up, well, maybe the rest of 'em would. And that wouldn't be good._

Axel poked the fire with a stick, then decided to have a little fun and made it blaze up for a moment, flooding the clearing with warm light. Larxene was curled on her side alone, knives in each hand. Lexaeus was sleeping on his side, his back between the forest and Zexion. Marluxia was a bit of a distance away from Vexen, the tips of his fingers barely brushing the elder Nobody's chest. And just beyond Vexen, eyes blazed green with tapetum lucidum in the darkness.

"Holy shit!" Axel lunged to his feet, chakrams in his hands just as the tiger lunged into the clearing for Vexen. Marluxia, disoriented and awoken by Axel's cry, automatically sat up and turned to face the huge cat barreling down on him.

For a moment, he was utterly frozen, staring at the too-large teeth and claws as they grew nearer to his face and his lover. Then, instinct taking over, he grabbed Vexen and rolled beneath the cat's lunge, towards the outside of the clearing. The tiger landed where Vexen had been seconds before, and screamed, an awful, ear-splitting sound that had the other healthy Nobodies on their feet in moments. It screamed again seconds later, this time in pain as one of Axel's chakrams, flames wreathing it, slammed into its side.

It flopped onto its side, right onto Marluxia, driving the breath from his lungs and breaking several ribs. Screaming again, it rolled onto its injured side, trying to extinguish the flames that clung to its fur by writhing in the dust of the forest floor.

"Kill it!" Larxene was screaming, the scent of ozone heavy on the air as she tried for a clear shot with her knives. "Kill the damn thing!"

The tiger leapt to his feet, obviously _angry_ now, eyes sweeping the clearing, tail lashing. Marluxia was nearest, wheezing, unable to get air into his punctured and crushed lungs, but Axel was bearing down on him with this fiery pointed things that hurt so badly, and the tiger bounded over Marluxia and Vexen, glanced back and saw Zexion, lying prone and forgotten on the ground. He was small and carryable, unlike the other two, but the one with fire was moving to attack again…

Leaping towards Zexion, determined to snatch and run, the tiger barely saw the blur of Lexaeus smash into its side and send it spinning out of the clearing and into the forest.

Dead silence reigned in the clearing, broken only by the bubbling hiss of Marluxia's labored breathing.

"…is it dead?" Larxene's voice was barely a whisper, as if she didn't want to risk it coming back.

"I don't think so, but we frightened it off," Lexaeus popped his shoulder, and knelt to check on Zexion. "Axel, give this to Marluxia." He handed the neophyte a potion. "Quickly, before he suffocates on his own blood."

Marluxia's world was oddly dim, and he was fairly certain it was because of a lack of oxygen. He was barely aware of someone prying his mouth open and pouring a too-bitter concoction down his throat. Choking, he tried to inhale, which only drove shattered ribs deeper into already-abused lungs, and he couldn't even get the breath to scream in pain.

Then he was coughing up blood, rolling on this hands and knees as the potion reset his ribs and healed his lungs, the need for oxygen forcing the liquid out.

Afterwards, he fell forwards, mindless of the mess he'd made. Axel rolled him over, so he didn't suffocate. "Powers," Marluxia wheezed. "What happened? What _was_ that?"

"A tiger," Axel spun a chakram in his hand. "Roxas told me about them. He said he'd seen one on his first mission. Said something else, too. Something about the damn bugs. Guess they were real bad when he was here, worse than this. Said Xigbar told him something…" Axel slammed the chakram into a tree. "Damn! I can't remember!"

"We can't stay here," Larxene said slowly, putting her knives away. "That thing might come back with friends."

"Tigers are usually solitary," Lexaeus said slowly.

"I don't like that 'usually' you threw in there," Marluxia stood, glancing down at the pale, comatose, but still-living Vexen. "We travel with them. We need a world with a doctor."

"London?" Lexaeus was already picking up Zexion.

"Good enough as any," Marluxia agreed, unable to pick up Vexen, watching Axel take the elder for him. "Only Radiant Garden would have better, and we don't dare…"

"I won't go there," Lexaeus said firmly. "Let's go. London will work just fine."

"This is dangerous," Axel warned the two unladen Nobodies. "We don't know if these two will have any input on the portals 'cause they're so out of it. Who the hell knows where we'll end up, ok? So if you guys turn up somewhere else, you sit down and wait for us, unless something bad happens. Then you leave a message of some sort and run like hell."

Marluxia merely nodded, eyes on the half-dead Vexen in Axel's arms. "Be careful," he said. "We need the both of you."

Axel just nodded and shifted his grip on Vexen, taking a deep breath. "Ok. See you in London." He was gone in a swirl of darkness, Lexaeus following moments later.

Marluxia shivered, glancing at Larxene. "Come on," he finally said, looking around at the forest. "Let's get out of this place. I hate it."

She nodded, vanishing from beside him. He followed moments later.

Zexion looked utterly helpless in a hospital bed, Marluxia decided. Awake and talking, he was intelligent, powerful, a Nobody to truly be reckoned with, despite his appearance.

Asleep, he looked young, and put against starched, white sheets and pillows, he looked almost childlike.

The nursing staff had drugged Lexaeus' tea after the second day in the hospital, when it became clear he wouldn't sleep or even leave Zexion's side. He was currently in a bed next to Zexion's.

Marluxia had been more pragmatic, asking nicely if he could sleep in a cot somewhere, as, he claimed, they were on vacation from a faraway country, and had no place to stay.

They'd bought it, probably due to the matching outfits. _We should change to blend in… but we move so often…_ He rubbed his eyes, sliding a little lower in the uncomfortable wooden chair that he sat in at Vexen's bedside.

He looked much better, his skin was back to its normal cool temperature, and his breathing was normal. Zexion was still fevered, though much better than he had been in the jungle.

Marluxia hadn't yet brought the topic of fever-related brain damage to Lexaeus yet. He decided avoiding that subject like the plague would be for the best.

Vexen groaned, and Marluxia stood up, all but knocking over the chair. Glassy emerald eyes opened, blinked once, and focused on Marluxia, taking in the details of his disheveled hair and clothes, the bags under his eyes, the lines of exhaustion and pain around his eyes and mouth. "So," he croaked. "You didn't leave me behind."

"No," Marluxia relaxed, sitting down again and taking his hand. "I did not."

"You're a fool," Vexen closed his eyes again, but smiled as Marluxia laced their fingers. "Thank you."

"Oh, you're awake, Mr. Even!" The nurse bustled in, moving to touch his forehead. Vexen's eyes flew wide, and he stared at Marluxia, who looked away and shook his head a little.

"I had to give them a last name," he murmured. "It was all I could think of."

Vexen just shook his head, swallowing slowly. The nurse was still chattering. "Do you think you could handle some broth, Mr. Even? I think it'd be best for you, especially after pulling through a bout of malaria, gracious me, I've never seen the like… Now if only your little nephew would wake up… his bodyguard is such a nice man, Mr. Even, really he is…"

Despite hearing his old name over and over again, Vexen wanted to laugh. He was weak, still somewhat ill, shaking, and this stupid woman thought _Zexion_ was his _nephew_.

"You've got quite the tale going," he murmured, as the nurse left to get him some broth. "Tell me, so I can… act along."

"So you can have a good laugh, you mean," Marluxia snorted. "I was recovering from broken ribs, and you two were half-dead. We didn't have our normal amount of scheming with us. Anyway, Axel and Larxene are the just-married Prince and Princess of Arabia."

"You're joking, we're all as pale as milk," Vexen began, already starting to chuckle.

"Don't laugh, they bought it. With my keffiyeh and the hoards of gold that Larxene… borrowed from Zexion's little hiding spot, it wasn't that hard to convince them. You are Axel's advisor, and I am the scribe." He tossed his hair. "I may be… putting on a bit of an act myself."

"Vainglorious idiot," Vexen drawled, coughing faintly. "And?"

"Oh, yes. Zexion is your young nephew, undergoing his manhood rights out in the Big Wide World."

"You're killing me."

"Not as much as I'd like to. Stop interrupting. Lexaeus is his bodyguard, and must be excused for his seeming possessiveness. He's been trained from birth to guard the young man, of course. He's the heir apparent, should anything happen to m'lord Axel, you see, and Lexaeus took his falling ill as a personal affront. I don't really remember what I said, but it was _brilliant_ , I'm sure. Anyway, I told this long and tragic tale of how our caravan had gotten lost in the jungle of so-and-so, and you two fell ill. The doctor immediately said malaria, and how lucky we were to have gotten this far so fast. I think he was suspicious, but I managed to make it sound plausible."

"Good," Vexen closed his eyes. "The last thing we need is to have you committed to a mental institution here."

"That would be interesting, though probably useless." Marluxia smirked. "No walls can hold me."

"Shut up," Vexen sighed, closing his eyes. "Make sure the others aren't destroying something. And find out when we can leave. How long have we been here?"

"A few days," Marluxia reluctantly let go of his hand. "And Zexion hasn't woken up yet."

"I see," Vexen shivered. "We can't stay."

"I know." Marluxia stood as the nurse reentered the room. "You rest," he murmured, finding himself longing to brush his hair back and kiss his forehead, and hardly daring to. "I'll be back shortly."

Hating himself for this sudden weakness, he went to check on the "newlyweds", who were acting just a little _too_ snuggly out in the waiting area for his comfort.

Vexen was right, they couldn't stay for long.

He just had to hope that Zexion awoke soon.

Lexaeus was sleeping, slumped forward on Zexion's bed when the younger Nobody woke. Confused, he pushed sweaty hair from his eyes, blinking down at the man sprawled across his lap. _What… what happened? Where am I? Why are you there, and not beside me, Lexaeus?_

He tried to sit up, and found that he was weaker than a newborn kitten. Blinking, he stared at the darkened ceiling, and tried to put the scattered pieces together. _I was sick. Oh. Oh, that's right. We're…_

He slowly touched Lexaeus' shoulder, and pulled his hand back when the broad shoulder lurched, and he sat up quickly. "No, I don't want tea, thank- Zexion." With an oddly blank, stunned look, he stared at his companion, reaching to take his hand. "You're awake."

"I thought you liked tea," Zexion said, and was surprised at how raspy his voice was.

"Not when there are narcotic sedatives in it," Lexaeus said, reaching out to take his hand. "You're awake. I never thought you would open your eyes again."

"I was that sick?" Zexion shook his head. "I don't remember."

"It's best that you don't," Lexaeus shook his head, leaning up to kiss his forehead, a luxury Marluxia hadn't been able to afford until later. "I was worried."

"You aren't supposed to care," Zexion sighed, fingers brushing his cheek. "Why do you?"

"I don't know," Lexaeus murmured, turning his head into the touch. "But I know I'm not the only one who does." He kissed Zexion's fingertips. "Perhaps, being outside of the Organization, we've changed. Perhaps we were always different. Perhaps it is habit. We'll be leaving as soon as you have some strength." He stood, changing the subject before Zexion could say a word. "I'll get a nurse to bring you some soup. Just rest, Zexion."

Zexion watched him leave, hand dropping to his chest, over where his heart had once been. _Perhaps… we are different now, Lexaeus._

He closed his eyes and sighed, waiting for the nourishment to come. They'd probably lingered here too long, waiting for him to wake. They'd have to move on soon.

 _We are different… because we must be._


	54. Chapter 052 – Trail

Chapter: 052 – Trail.  
Location: Agrabah  
Characters: Xaldin, Xigbar  
Rating/Warnings: G.  
Summary: Snooping about is a bad habit. Recon, on the other hand, is manly business for the bold. And Xigbar.  
Author's note: This week, instead of one long chapter, you'll get two short ones. Enjoy your mid-week snark. :) 

**Chapter 052 : Agrabah – Trail.**

* * *

The blazing sun stood high in the sky, heat mercilessly slamming down between the endless dunes.

The light flickered and mirages solidified into two black shapes, from the looks of it continuing an argument about heat, light and sand in unmentionable places that had already been going on for quite some time.  
When they reached the city walls, one of the shapes raised a hand to shade its eyes, then turned towards its shorter companion.

"Tell me again why exactly we are here."

The skinnier of the two raised its hands to lower the cowl of its black coat and absently fanned himself.

"Rumor. Some people around here have seen people in black, hooded leather coats skulking about. That sound fishy to you?"

"Hm. So someone's out doing unauthorized fieldwork on their own."

"Maybe."

The taller figure turned to his companion and lowered his own hood to give the grizzled man a questioning look.

"Maybe? What else?"

A furtive shrug.

"Call it a hunch."

The Lancer actually groaned, a hand pressed over his eyes.

"Would this be an _'I found this rad mushroom and now I keep having these_ brilliant _ideas_ ' sort of hunch, or more of the _'I just totally accidentally happened to overhear this conversation and now I can't help but think'_ kind?"

Xigbar barked a short, amused laugh.

"More the latter than the sooner, if you must know. We won't find anything hanging out here, though, Let's do some recon."

Passing the city gates to the busy market beyond the two gave the place a look of professional assessment.

"Ripe," Xaldin commented, taking in the filth and poverty lurking in the shadows. Pilfering a handful of dried dates from behind a suspiciously glaring vendor by means of a tiny, well-aimed dark portal, Xigbar nodded.

"Steady supply of hearts. It's a good world. You wouldn't believe some of the things munny can buy you here."

Xaldin shook his head with a resigned air.

"Probably not, although I'm sure _you_ do. So what are we looking for, more precisely? According to your _hunch_."

Munching on a sweet date, Xigbar shrugged vaguely.

"Not sure. I guess we'll know it when we see it. Anything out of the ordinary."

Xaldin gave the bazaar and its abundance of enchanted objects, rope-charming flute players, swashbuckling street-rat heroes and the occasional monster a dubious look.

"In _this_ place?"

"Hey, look!" Xigbar happily exclaimed, elbowing him, "I see tits!"

Faced with plenty of scantily dressed women, it took Xaldin a moment to realize the shorter Nobody was pointing at a small group of low-level Heartless lurking on a roof.

"They've adapted nicely," he conceded. "Good desert camouflage on the Bandits. The little ones weren't always on fire either, were they?"

"Nope. My hunch is liking this."

There was something particularly unpleasant about Xigbar's smile when he slipped through a portal to emerge on the roof on top of the Heartless. Frowning, Xaldin followed.

"So you found burning Heartless. If you dragged me out here just to collect samples for your practical jokes, Xigbar..."

The Freeshooter gave him a whimsical wave even as he leaned forward to give the gaggle of Heartless a closer look. With blank, yellow eyes, they looked back.

"Tell me, compadre, what is wrong with this picture."

"Aside from me being in it?" Xaldin snapped sarcastically. "You know I have more important things to do than rousing Heartless. _Demyx_ can rouse Heartless."

Xigbar shook his head, still grinning.

"Give him a break, he's a good kid. And _you're_ losing your touch. Look closer."

Xaldin crossed his arms and glared at the Heartless. A few ruddy Luna Bandits, and about equal parts of the burning and unlit bomb-like whatever-they-were-called. And...

"Ice-cubes?" he asked out loud.

"Ice-cubes! In the desert!" Xigbar crowed triumphantly.

"Alright, that _is_ out of the ordinary. I still don't see where you're going with this."

Xigbar flung an arm around his shoulder, making a sweeping gesture with his other hand. That he had to float several feet above the rooftop to do so didn't even seem to register.

"Scenario: Oblivion. Our guys, their guys. Showdown, big boom, collateral damage all around. Bad news for us, huh? _But_. Ponder for a moment not _everyone_ kicked the bucket. Maybe some little scaredycats slipped away."

Xaldin stared blankly at the other Nobody for several long moments.

"You _did_ eat that mushroom, didn't you."

Xigbar shook his head impatiently.

"Okay, the cubes are a far stretch. But Roxas found something in Twilight Town. I heard Big Boss tell him to keep quiet about it for now, until slobbery watchdog had sniffed it out. And _then_ I heard Xemnas talking to Saïx."

"You've really accidentally stumbled into a lot of private conversations lately, haven't you?"

One yellow eye, unusually serious, sought his own.

"Maybe it's nothing. But Roxas and Fido both whispering about Axel - and now these guys?"

A sweeping gesture towards the restless little fireballs.

"Direct contact with an Organization member would definitely be enough to trigger the ICTIT5. Look at them! Fire and ice."

Xaldin narrowed his eyes.

"You think Vexen is in on whatever it is, too? But that makes no sense. Had Vexen survived Oblivion he would have run straight home, not... gone _here_."

Xigbar frowned and chewed on his lower lip.

"Hm. Okay. It does seem unlikely."

Pushing his braids back over his shoulder, Xaldin shook his head.

"This place has a lot of background magic. Anything could have triggered the Heartless, you know how volatile that gene is."

Xigbar's frown deepened.

"Still doesn't explain why people here claim to have seen Organization lookalikes loitering around here."

He'd almost forgotten about that.

"Hm."

"We should at least snoop around some more. Can't stand the thought of the lapdog knowing about something I don't."

"One of these days you're going to have to learn to admit you're wrong, Xigbar."

The other Nobody grinned at him.

"On that far-off day when it happens, maybe."

"Please. _'No, I swear, Cruella is totally a Princess of Heart!'_..?"

Xigbar gave him a wounded look.

"That was just a spur of the moment thought after one too many tequilas, dude."

"Still wrong."

"Technically, perhaps."

"Technically counts. Let's go back. The sun is giving me a headache, and I've got work to do. You, too. If something's going on we should know about, Xemnas will tell us, I'm sure."

Xigbar looked cross.

"You know I hate waiting around."

"Then there's this new thing you can try out. Called honest work. Ever heard of it?"

He grinned evilly and _almost_ dodged the well-aimed punch going for his shoulder.

Xigbar looked around at the brightly sunlit city, and shook his head.

"I still say something fishy is going on. Saïx was _smiling_ this morning. He never smiles!"

Xaldin sighed.

"How about we just get you a nice tinfoil hat, and maybe then you can almost pose as a normal, well-adjusted member of society."

"Your mom."

The Lancer resignedly shook his head and reached out for the Darkness to shape a portal back home, when a hand on his arm interrupted him.

"Xaldin?"

Even for Xigbar the soft voice was smug. He turned around.  
They stood in silence for a few seconds.

"Darkness on a stick," Xaldin muttered as the green Bandits waved their pink scythe-like scimitars at him.

"There'll be no end to the trouble now."


	55. Chapter 053 – 221a

Chapter: 053 – 221a.  
Location: London  
Characters: Zexion, Lexaeus  
Rating/Warnings: G.  
Summary: Zexion is left alone with his thoughts in the cold London night.  
Author's note: Second of the two shorter chapters. We'll try to keep updating throughout the holidays, but we may also be shamelessly late. u.u 

**Chapter 053 : London – 221a.**

* * *

It was dark, only a faint mix of falling snow and sputtering streetlights casting blurred shadows across the ceiling and far wall. The world London might not be quite as technologically advanced as Radiant Garden or the Big Apple, but the city was large and bustling in its own right, never quite fell asleep. For a place full of people it still allowed for comfortable anonymity, and the distant murmur of the city's pulse despite the late hour made for quite a soothing backdrop.  
He studied the shadow patterns in the ceiling, Lexaeus' sleeping form a comfortable presence beside him, the larger man's breathing so deep and steady it calmed him just listening to it.

Zexion thoughtfully contemplated his own sanity.

The fever had been severe and out-drawn; the risk for permanent damage to the brain a very real threat. The doctors had been concerned and asked he stayed under their surveillance for at least another week, but it hadn't taken many days for Axel's and Larxene's wild tales to become so outrageous even the gossiping youngest nurses had started to grow suspicious.  
So they'd left, found these simple but decently clean rooms to rent. Simple for discretion rather than price; it wasn't as though they weren't heavily laden with gold for once. Small, discreet rooms... Still close to a hospital. Just in case.  
Not that the risk of him or Vexen falling ill again was really very likely, but... Just in case.  
At least the neighbors were quiet and kept mostly to themselves.

He shifted slightly.  
The fever didn't seem to have left any lasting damage aside from the hardly unexpected weakness and fatigue.

He knew the others worried; he was certainly not stupid, he knew very well the dangers and risks outdrawn bouts of high fever presented. The Neophytes might be too uneducated to realize the potential problem, but Vexen and Lexaeus kept shooting him concerned glances when they thought he wasn't looking. Analyzing, assessing, silently wondering.

Surely it would have been obvious by now if something had gone so horribly wrong.

He certainly didn't feel less cerebrally capable than usual.  
But he wouldn't, would he, he thought with the faintest shadow of a self-ironic smirk. Fools never know they're fools, do they?  
Perhaps I'm really quite insane even now, without realizing.  
His smirk tugged derangedly at the corners of his mouth and he forced it off his lips.

Can a Nobody even be truly insane? The obvious question to follow such thoughts.

An interesting problem, really. Twistedly, calculatedly eccentric like Xemnas, or a raving slave to lunar siren songs like Saïx, perhaps, but a truly broken mind? Thought, mind, memory was the very core of their existence, after all.  
If you damage a Nobody's mind, does the Nobody itself become damaged?

The concept was quite intriguing and certainly merited more thorough contemplation. He amused himself by replacing the likely variables with suitable equations, running them through a few basic algorithms, and frowned in slight annoyance as muffled voices intruded on his thought-process, making it hard to concentrate.

Hearing voices, he mused sarcastically. That's rarely a good sign, especially not when somewhat doubting your grip on reality. He turned his heavy head to look towards the window, awaiting the tell-tale shadows of passers-by outside to explain the disturbance.

Zexion froze and stared.  
There we mice on the windowsill.  
One skinny, tall (can you describe mice as tall? If... they're walking on their hind legs, then well, yes, supposedly) one, wearing an odd hat and gesturing grandly with a small magnifying glass, and a shorter corpulent one with, with, yes, it was definitely sporting a moustache.

They weren't the large, fairly humanoid anthropomorphic beings they had occasionally come across throughout the worlds; they were tiny, ordinary, well... mice.

They wore clothes.

He kept staring. He could feel the first signs of a migraine coming on.

The rodents were having quite an animated discussion as they walked by, finally disappearing behind the curtains.

Zexion screamed.


	56. Chapter 054 - The Most Wonderful Time

Chapter: 054 - The Most Wonderful Time.  
Location: London  
Characters: Larxene, Zexion, Vexen, Marluxia, Lexaeus, Axel.  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, for swearing and talk of dirty stuff.  
Summary: The horrid things our protagonists have to suffer to remain inconspicuous in the worlds...  
Authors' note: Happiest holidays to you all! 

**Chapter 054 : London – The Most Wonderful Time.**

* * *

"I think we should exchange gifts," Larxene had chirped over breakfast one certain morning. Still wrapped in blankets, nose a bit pale, Zexion lowered his teacup to give her an incredulous look.

"And what makes you think that?"

Larxene shrugged and waved her half-eaten scone for emphasis.

"Madam Cratchit is a real geek for Christmas. She keeps asking what I'll give people. Not celebrating would make her suspicious - we _are_ trying to keep a low profile, aren't we?"

"You're just looking for excuses to indulge," Vexen sniffed, nursing a teacup of his own.

She grinned.

"Of course. But I'm _also_ right, and you know it."

They contemplated this in silence.

It was true their landlady was adamant about the virtues of Christmas and the importance of keeping it properly, and while it might not immediately mark them as alien beings worthy of special notice if they abstained - it just might make them that little bit more memorable.

"I suppose we could," Marluxia shrugged aloofly. "It's not as though we don't have the munny."

Lexaeus predictably frowned.

"We should conserve our assets. We don't know when we may need it."

Axel coughed what sounded suspiciously like " _cheapskate"_ into his fist. Larxene rolled her eyes and demonstratively rattled today's extravagant jewellery of choice.

"Lexie-love, I for one have gold enough tucked away in my knickers alone to keep us going for a month. Relax and have some _fun_ for once, will you?"

Sitting around in the cold town waiting for their sick companions to recover had left them all bored and restless, and perhaps just a little bit more open to controversial ideas than usual.

Celebrating Christmas together as though they had any business doing so was a ridiculous notion, most of them would agree, but for the sake of dampening the natives' curiosity - not to mention the chance for low blows presented by finding the perfect... _gifts_ for some of the others…

It was obviously not a good idea, because it had been Larxene's, but lacking anything better to do it might just have some merit playing along. For now.

And so it was that Axel walked the snowy streets a few hours later. Eager shoppers were streaming by, drawn between one glowing shop window and the next. Axel huddled deeper into his coat and tried to balance his load of packages. So far, the best result of Larxene's idea was a few glorious hours of unguarded freedom under the guise of "shopping for gifts". Sure, it was a shitty world, with snow up to the arse and no concept of central heating, but at least he didn't have to suffer the company of the others.

 _All the Christmas gift I need._

Well, almost. If Roxas had been here with him…

He stopped by a window to critically examine the goods on display. Would Lexaeus like a gilded music box with a ballerina on top? Or rather, would he _dislike_ it enough? So many choices...

Axel plodded on into the dusk.

Zexion shuddered and wrapped the blanket tighter around him. Even with all the curtains pulled and the fires roaring, he could feel the damp cold creeping into the air.

He frowned at the fire, then jotted down another post into the notebook on his lap. Though he could not see it, he could guess at the snow falling outside the windows. There was not a chance in the Darkness that he would venture out in this to buy anyone anything, even if Lexaeus had allowed it (the man could be so overbearing sometimes).

It was a cause for careful consideration and delicate planning, this. It was not a matter to be taken lightly. So much could be said with the right gift, and he was not about to rush the decisions.

He had a great many thing he wanted to say to his fellow travellers.

Scrutinizing the list he had made, he nodded in satisfaction. Everything seemed to be accounted for. Rising, he carefully made his way out onto the landing, and shivered again; as soon as he left the perimeter of the fire the cold attacked with a vengeance.

Mrs. Cratchit was waiting by the stairs, smiling warmly as he handed her the list and the money bag.

"I'll see to it sir, don't you worry!"

He thanked her and limped back to the couch, mumbling something at her happy "Merry Christmas!" and discreetly eyeing the shadows for any signs of mice.

Huge, soft snowflakes swirled through the air like downy feathers and twilight had fallen early in the wintry world. Icicles caught the warm light from the windows and shone with a glow all their own.

Vexen was not impressed.

Nobodies shopping for presents! It was beyond ridiculous, well into the area of aggravating.

He was still rather weak after the fever he had pulled through, and even though he, unlike Zexion, was more or less back on his feet, wasting energy ploughing through crowds of people was highly unproductive.

 _Gifts!_

Bah, humbug. As though he should bother keeping track of what the others might desire!

He shook his head, then regretted it as a wave of dizziness made him pause. He'd rather not admit to himself how tiring just walking down the street was; better get the foolishness over and done with, the sooner the better.

Already he had picked up some practical trinkets for his old colleagues, as well as the one thing he could think of for Axel – who had apparently, he had recently learned, carried him through the portal to London without even murdering him on the way.

He was in a cranky enough mood to consider giving into a most inappropriate whim when it came to Larxene, and then of course there was…

 _Marluxia_.

Flowery bastard.  
Who had barely left his side while he was sick and even waited springing his usual infuriating remarks, smug smirks and unwelcome advances until he was recovered enough to have regained some semblance of defence…  
Almost decent of him.

Bah!

He shouldn't have to waste time, energy or intellectual effort on figuring out an appropriate gift for the intolerable man!  
Especially since it was turning out absurdly difficult to think of something Marluxia might actually _want_. One would think after all this time he would have some inkling as to what might appeal to the Assassin...

The man already had most things he really needed, and with his uppish tastes getting him something _better_ just because would be both painfully expensive and unforgivably spendthrift - and he'd be found _dead_ before he resorted to giving away sentimental keepsakes.

Not that it mattered either way, the contrived gift-exchange was for show only.  
Yet...

Half an hour later, by the time he had found something atrocious enough to suit even Larxene, he was tired enough to almost collapse where he stood, and ready to bang his head against the nearest wall in frustration.

He stared blankly into the snow-filled dusk when the epiphany struck him. Something to discreetly yet unequivocally make his sentiments for the man entirely clear... Yes.  
Yes, that would be perfect.

Lexaeus' already craggy face became even more hollowed and angled as a frown creased his lips and brow. It wasn't merely enough to _think_ about buying gifts for his… comrades? Companions? Either one was conceivably correct.

He shook his head- now wasn't the time to argue semantics with oneself.

 _Besides,_ he reminded himself, _Zexion is waiting for you._

Besides, Lexaeus could be incredibly thrifty when the need arose- and oh, how it arose often in these times, it seemed. _I would still say our luck has been better than most,_ he told himself as he selected a hat shoppe that had affordable and inexpensive wares.

He and Zexion had already agreed to split a gift or two between them, saying that, since everyone blindly assumed they were some sort of two-headed entity, it may as well do to encourage that sentiment. It made the expressions of surprise when one acted separate from the other that much more amusing.

' _Tis the season,_ Lexaeus thought to himself, and smiled. The person passing in front of him noticed, and started walking a little faster. Men such as Lexaeus, when smiling, seldom looked as if it were a smile of happiness.

Besides, this Christmas shopping thing wasn't _so_ bad. It wasn't detrimental to one's health, and it was rather nice to get away from the others for a while.

Though he did worry about Zexion, and his recent… delusions. He felt his face creasing into a frown again and smoothed it out, nodding neutrally to the next person to wish him a "Merry Christmas" as they passed on the street.

Checking the list that he had written to himself, he rubbed his chin and nodded more or less to himself. _Yes, that should be all._ After all, he didn't have to worry about buying anything for Zexion. He already knew exactly what to give the smaller Nobody.

He smiled again, and turned the smile on the next person to wish him "Merry Christmas". Oh, yes, with a private, _locked_ room, and a healthy Zexion, Lexaeus knew exactly what to get the former Number Six.

To their mutual discomfort Marluxia and Lexaeus had crossed paths ten minutes' walk from the boarding house, and lacking any good excuses not to, had fallen into step to walk back together in stiff silence.  
It was long since dark outside by the time they reached the door of 221a, only to find a gaggle of people outside their open door, illuminated by the light from within.

Nerves already twanging made them tense up in alarm before realizing no pitchforks were in plain sight, and the visitors seemed to have gathered there only to stand about and sing. Sharing a questioning look they shrugged in vague bemusement before shouldering their way through the throng.

Their landlady stood in the doorway, smiling and nodding at them as they dutifully stomped snow from their boots before stepping inside.

"Lovely, isn't it? The turkey is on the table and I left the eggnog on the stove downstairs, Mr. Bracken, Mr. Stone, do feel right at home and help yourselves. I will be off now to spend the rest of the evening with the family. Merry Christmas!"

Giving as elegant a polite bow as was possible with his arms loaded with wrapped gifts,  
Marluxia made his way past the old woman, leaving Lexaeus to close the door and if necessary chase off the singing crowd outside.

The table in their apartment was indeed groaning under the weight of a turkey and enough bowls of potatoes, fruit, apple sauce, greens and meats to feed a regiment. Whatever surface wasn't covered with plates and glasses was occupied by gaudy decorations of holly and mistletoe. The overall effect was rather overwhelming.

A sweet, cloying smell led him to a small covered pot bubbling away by the fireside. Lifting the lid, he was met by a cloud of alcohol that nearly made his eyes water.

"Whatever that is, I want a piece of it!" A loud voice exclaimed.

Marluxia straightened and turned around with a look of disgust. "Axel."

The redhead slipped past him, snow melting and dripping from his shoulders.

"Just what a guy needs after all this damned snow, you know?"

Marluxia left the concoction to Axel and headed into their bedroom. Vexen was reading by the small stove, a small heap of packages on the bed proving that he was already done with the day's quest.

Vexen glanced up from his book and mumbled something vague in greeting. Marluxia gave him a critical once-over.

"How are you?"

Vexen snorted. "Just fine." A slight hesitation. "Thank you for asking."

Marluxia nodded, firmly reminding himself that the cold weather would hardly cause any discomfort to an ice elemental.

"So... how does one go about a proper Christmas celebration?"

Vexen looked up again, then sighed and put the book away. "I have no idea what kind of daft rituals the denizens of this world may have, and I really don't wish to know either. I suppose we eat the food and exchange the gifts and be done with it."

The food was delicious. Heavenly. The Nobodies stuffed their faces until their more uncivilized members had onion and sage smeared up over their eyebrows. Even Zexion, who hadn't had much appetite as of late, ate until he was groaning. Not everyone took to the meal without complaint, though.

"Apple sauce? With turkey?"

"I remember that, back from before we... moved to The World That Never Was." Lexaeus was leaning back in the chair, filling another glass of the sweet, red wine.

"I still say it's not natural."

"Whatever you say, Larxene."

The girl also leaned back, taking another bite of a spare rib. "Oh, well. I _like_ this tradition."

They didn't stop until all plates were scoured clean and the bottles were all empty. The food and alcohol had mellowed minds and bodies and it was with something almost approaching cheer that the company gathered around the fireplace armed with the eggnog and a bag of chestnuts.

The pile of gifts was quite impressive up close.

Cheeks given rare colour by mulled wine and eggnog, Zexion had even shed his trusty blanket, and attempted to moderate the procedure with a shadow of his usual bossy self-importance.

"One for you, Vexen, and one for you Larxene, these two for Axel, this… Vexen, one day you _will_ learn to use legible handwriting, does it say Lexaeus or Larxene?"

Vexen gave his short colleague an overbearing look.

"I'm thinking the problem is not so much my handwriting as your being drunk as a monkey, Zexion. It says Lexaeus, neat and clear."

"I am _not_ drunk, Vexen, don't be ridiculous. Here, Lexaeus. And this is for you, Marluxia, and another for Lexaeus…"

Axel was already tearing into his first present with the ferocity of a five-year-old. Out of the wreckage he pulled a tall, cylindrical hat, eyes suddenly gleaming.

"Hah! I can't believe you guys remembered!" he exclaimed, guiding it down on his unruly spikes.

"Merry Christmas, Axel," Vexen clipped. Axel slowly lowered his hands from the brim and stared at him.

"From you? _You_ got _me_ a gift?"

The scientist gave a lofty shrug.

"That was the idea, wasn't it? If we were to only buy gifts for people we liked my list had been a _lot_ shorter. Non-existent, even."

"Oh. Uh, right. I got you something too, no really," the fire elemental quickly assured, patting his pockets. "Err. Here! Yes. Just forgot to wrap it, really. Merry Christmas."

Vexen looked highly unconvinced, but warily accepted the hip-flask the redhead offered along with a slightly glazed smile.

"Thank you, I'm sure…"

Shaking his head, looking slightly displeased for whatever reason, Zexion continued handing out presents.  
Larxene finished carefully flaying a package and picked up a rather thick book from inside. Her hopeful little evil smirk faded and her eyebrows slowly rose as she studied the cover.

"' _A Young Lady's Guide To A Virtuous Living'_..? Why _thank you_ , Zexion, how very thoughtful."

"I'm sure it will come in useful. Very useful," the Schemer smiled back, voice laden heavy with honey and vinegar.

Once the pile was more or less evenly distributed, temporary silence fell as they all concentrated on more or less enthusiastically unwrapping their spoils.

Marluxia gave a deep, long-suffering sigh but didn't even deign to comment on the gaily pink dish-brush and fresh bottle of dish-soap Zexion and Lexaeus had gotten him.  
The matching flower-embroidered towel from Axel was an equally expected low blow.  
Unimaginative brutes.

At least the box from Larxene contained a new pair of well-made black leather gloves, and he shot her a genuinely appreciative smile. Darling girl, at least _someone_ had noticed how chapped and sore his hands had gotten lately… Someone not making condescendingly inappropriate remarks about the appeal thereof, at any rate.

Someone, it seemed, who had apparently not seen fit to get him anything at _all_. Surely, if Vexen had even bought a gift for _Axel_ … He looked up and caught the blonde's eye, and received a half-shrug and the mouthed word 'later'.

Well, that certainly worked…

With a smirk he turned back to watch the others in time to catch Axel's priceless expression as he unwrapped his third top hat.

"You guys _must_ be joking!"

He tore into the last two packets. His disgruntled face when he found himself holding yet another pair of top hats in his hands was so comical Marluxia had to stifle a laugh in his sleeve.

Zexion, the giver of one of these last hats, glared at Vexen as if it was all somehow his fault.

"I assure you, Axel, we have better things to do than to plan something as stupid as this."

Axel hissed angrily, surrounded by conical black hats and amused companions. Larxene tittered and slapped his knee gaily.

"Look at it from the bright side! At least this way you'll probably have _one_ that fits."

Grumbling, Axel squashed Vexen's hat down further over his head and gulped down another cup of eggnog.

"Yeah, yeah, merry Christmas. I still say you planned this."

Zexion ignored him and turned to the sloppily wrapped gift in his hands. "From you. Thank you, Axel."

He opened it to find a stout padlock, complete with keys. Axel smirked.

"It goes with Lexaeus' gift."

Turning to Lexaeus, Zexion found him holding up a small, obviously homemade sign dangling on a piece of string.

"'Do Not Disturb'. I shall _remember_ your thoughtfulness, Axel."

"Hey, just feel free to thank me. I thought to myself; 'Axel, old man, you're a good guy. You need to do a good deed.' And what could be better than saving countless cleaning ladies from horrible trauma?"

The Schemer gritted his teeth. " _Ever_ so considerate."

Larxene laughed so hard she almost fell over, face red and glowing from the wine and eggnog.

"Axel, you really _are_ a good guy. Now, let's see here... from Vexen. I really hope this is the black lace lingerie you once promised me."

Vexen snorted into his cup.

She untied the ribbons around the delicate little box, then lifted the lid.

"What is this...?"

Her teasing smirk slowly froze as she lifted the first flimsy article out of the box. There was lace - black - and garters and stiff black brocade, and yet more lace...

"The tailor from last time still had you measurements," Vexen absently commented, sipping his eggnog, apparently oblivious to the sudden silence.

For once shocked beyond smirks and crude remarks Larxene just stared, then blinked and started grinning, finally bursting into shrill, amused laughter.

"I'll have to hand it to you, you kinky, kinky old man! You won this round. I never thought you had it in you."

Vexen shrugged loftily, determinedly unfazed by the others' disbelieving (and in a few very specific cases, accusing) stares.

"Consider it a pre-emptive bribe, Larxene, and just _behave_."

Still grinning wickedly she blew the scientist a mocking kiss, then went back to plucking small, lacy pieces of clothing out of the box, now and then emitting pleased little sounds.

Zexion tore his disgusted gaze from Vexen, who was utterly ignoring him in favour of his drink.

"Eh. Well." He opened his last gift to find a small parcel of black tea. The delicious smell reached his nose; this was high quality leaves, he could tell.

Across the room, the lounging Marluxia smiled smugly at him. Zexion glared at the package. _The bastard_. The nerve to give him an expensive, well-thought out gift when he _knew_ Zexion would give him something worthless!

Smiling sweetly with clenched jaws, he was at least pleased to see Larxene's face when she opened Lexaeus' gift to find a stout pair of thick socks.

"Bore. And after I got you that body oil, too."

Axel snickered, and she retaliated by flicking a chestnut at his head.

"Ow!"

"Serves you right."

He grasped the nut tight in his hand for a second, then threw it back piping hot with its shell cracked open from the heat. Vexen shuddered almost imperceptibly.

The last gift of the heap was for Lexaeus. It was another of Marluxia's impeccably wrapped ones. Zexion glared at it; knowing the Graceful Assassin, this too would be disgustingly well thought out.

It was. Several vials of potion, and Lexaeus looked up to trade nods and what seemed to be a suspiciously meaningful look with the man. Bah.

By now the carpet was littered with brown paper and pieces of string and the eggnog was running low in the glasses. More than one Nobody had cheerily burning cheeks and glazed eyes.

"That's it?" Larxene looked around. "I think I can spot some missing gifts here."

"You can't spot it if it's missing," Axel pointed out, tipping the last few drops in his glass into his mouth.

She stuck her tongue out. "Come on. Eleven and Four seems to have forgotten each other, for which we are all very thankful. Not to mention the old married couple."

Vexen stiffly gathered up his things. "I can't remember everything, can I? Besides, I notice Axel seems to have forgotten _you_."

"Nah. I already gave her something. _All night_."

Larxene tittered. The rest shuddered.

"Oh, for the love of..!"

"I think that was the cue for bedtime, actually. Before we reach any lower depths."

Zexion rose, nodding reassuringly at Lexaeus' quick glance. "Yes. I could use some sleep right about now."

The company disbanded, by and by; Nobodies made slow by food and too much drink and cradling new possessions with various degrees of fondness. Before long, Axel and Larxene had the sitting room to themselves.

"Who do they think they are fooling, anyways? I'll betcha Zexion is going to get a good pounding for Christmas." Axel said sleepily, wrapping himself up in a blanket on the sofa.

Larxene had the divan. "And _I'll_ bet _you_ Lexaeus is putting red ribbons on it, in honour of the day."

"Your imagination is frankly disgusting, my dear."

"Oh, sod off."

In the faltering light from the dying fire, Axel's smile flashed white.

"You too, dear. And to us all a good night..."


	57. Chapter 055 - Under White Ashes (XXX)

Chapter: 055 - Under White Ashes.  
Location: London  
Characters: Vexen, Marluxia.  
Rating/Warnings: R/MA or something? Sex between consenting (yarly) adults.  
Summary: Vexen and Marluxia have a heart to heart, except obviously not. Gifts are exchanged. Sex is had.  
Author's notes: And of course - Happy New Year, everyone, and the very best wishes to you all! 

**Chapter 055 : London – Under White Ashes.**

* * *

Vexen gave the contents of his recently acquired hipflask a careful sniff, then quickly jerked it away from his nose, eyes watering slightly. Shaking his head to clear it from the fumes, he looked up as his room-mate closed the door with a soft click.

"So," Marluxia said noncommittally, leaning back against the closed door.

"So," he agreed, dumping the bottle on top of his small pile of gifts. "Not an altogether bad attempt at celebration, all things considered. We're getting better at adjusting to human behaviour by every world, have you noticed? Soon we'll have convinced even ourselves to the point we won't need excuses anymore. Hah."

There was a slight amused twitch to the Assassin's mouth.

"Do you ever stop analyzing?"

He sniffed slightly.

"No. Habit, as you should well know, is another vital cornerstone to-.."

"Oh, shush. You enjoyed yourself out there. Stop trying to make excuses for yourself. You're not fooling anyone. Never did."

He narrowed his eyes.

"And what do you mean by that?"

Marluxia shrugged slightly, and it only now struck Vexen that perhaps his head was not the only one slightly muddled by generous amounts of wine and eggnog.

"I think you could venture a guess. You just can't admit you actually like something, can you? Always have to come up with the most contrived little reasons to get what you want without actually admitting you want it."

That was the sort of speech usually delivered as a hot whisper against his ear, not stated matter-of-factly from across the room, and he was taken slightly aback.

"And so you grant yourself the right to determine what I really do or do not want?" he spat, defensively. "You presume too much, Marluxia."

The younger man gave him a silent, unreadable look, before shaking his head slightly.

"Let's not. I don't want a fight with you, not right now. Could you just try to let yourself believe not everything I say is intended as a personal insult?"

Vexen crossed his arms and gave the Assassin a disbelieving look. The man was being far too civil. Normally at least one of them would have been shoved up against a wall at this stage of conversation.

"That's funny, because usually it _is_ ," he muttered. Still Marluxia didn't raise to the bait. Suspicious but curious he remained silent.

"I sometimes wonder," Marluxia conceded, thoughtful, still leaning back against the door, "what I am to you. Every once in a while we share a bed for pleasure. Yet, the rest of the time you treat me like an enemy at best, like dirt at worst, and I can't think of even once that you've stood up for me."

He paused to give Vexen a look, but when met by solid silence he elaborated.

"I suppose I wonder, if the roles had been reversed… Would you have stayed behind for me had it been me sick and dying in the jungle? Can I trust you, Vexen, as I should hope you have learned by now you can trust me?"

Arms still crossed tightly, he shrugged uncomfortably. He was far too tired for this, tired and slightly dizzy from alcohol, and the conversation was rapidly heading into murky waters best left undisturbed.  
 _Just like that disastrous evening in the big city_ , he thought to himself. Apparently any amount of alcohol turned the fearsome Assassin into a sentimental sissy. At least he _hoped_ it was the alcohol talking.

"You're asking a lot of me, expecting me to trust you," he stalled. "And you're asking even more if you think I'd stand up for you. We've all agreed to stick together for our mutual benefit-.."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it," Marluxia interrupted him, an impatient frown marring his brow. "By all powers of Darkness, you are the unrivalled master at wrapping everything you say in so much balderdash you end up saying everything and nothing at all. Won't you just give me straight answer? For _once_."

Bristling he pulled himself up to his full height.

" _Fine_. Would I have stayed behind for you? I honestly don't know. That's my straight answer. I don't know."

Marluxia's blue eyes bore into his, and then the man gave a vague shrug.

"I see. It's an answer, at least."

Feeling oddly guilty, Vexen immediately kicked himself for doing so. Making a short, frustrated gesture he finally ended up sliding a hand through his hair, pacing restlessly.

"You are infuriating," he shot, accusingly. Marluxia just watched him in silence. "Infuriating! You are arrogant and self-centered and pompous, you either force yourself upon me unwanted or discard me without a second glance! I _still_ don't know if you actually give a damn or just play some twisted little game at my expense. You stayed behind for me, yes, but _why_? I can't figure you out, you drive me insane, I can't stand the sight of you, but if you weren't around, I would be ripped hollow and incomplete."

Biting his lip hard, as though only then realizing he had said far too much, Vexen turned around, his stiff back to the stunned Assassin.

"Habit," he said, voice quiet and slightly strangled. "I told you. Habit defines half of what we are, and you're a dreadful, dreadful habit I find myself unable to break no matter how hard I've tried - oh, how I've tried! But I can't. And so all I can do is brace myself for the next time you grow tired enough of me that you order Axel to get rid of me for you."

There was silence for what felt like several minutes, his strained breathing the only sound.

"Don't worry," Marluxia finally said, voice so very soft, from somewhere behind him. "Axel would die rather than let me order him around nowadays."

Affronted to the core of his being he swirled around, to find the man standing behind him, sporting that impossible smile that was neither cruel nor smug but genuinely pleasant.

"Thank you," Marluxia said, forestalling any indignant outbursts. "I asked for an honest answer, and you finally gave me one. _Finally_. I think I am beginning to understand. Habit, hm?" he mused. "It makes sense, I suppose. An unexplainable, impossible, frustrating, _terrifying_ habit, that can't be broken lest it breaks you right along with it…"

"Yes," he said, hoarsely, because he couldn't think of anything else to say. Suddenly the scent of roses was overwhelming.

Marluxia gave a quiet little chuckle after another few moments' silence, shaking his head.

"So that's it, then. We're each other's little bad habit. Not the romantic notion, perhaps, but…"

Regaining some of his composure, Vexen sniffed haughtily.

"I should certainly hope not. Romance, that's even worse than _celebration_ …"

Marluxia laughed again, and it was amused and warm and again - so strangely - without malice.

"Gods forbid! But speaking of celebration, my dearest, you never got your Christmas gift. And if you haven't got one for me after giving even Larxene and _Axel_ something, I shall be hurt to the core of my nonexistent heart."

Vexen couldn't bite back a smirk.

"But of course. A very, very thought-out one."

The previous tension slowly dissipated like so much morning mist burned away by the sun. There would be some practical implications to consider, certainly, but that could wait. These exhausting flares of emotion were merely illusions, after all. Truly.

Or possibly the effect of too much alcohol.  
Probably that.

Marluxia stepped away to retrieve a neatly wrapped parcel from the bedside table by his pillow, and Vexen busied himself extracting his equally meticulously wrapped gift from his pocket.

"Zexion may never forgive you for getting him fine tea," he commented. "He won't be able to _not_ drink it, and he'll resent you bitterly every time he gives in."

"I just have that effect on people," Marluxia smirked as he returned. Vexen forcibly restrained himself from strangling him.

"Now, I know you're far too much of a practical bastard to appreciate the fine nuances of something symbolical," Marluxia stated, handing over his gift, "so don't blame _me_ for the lack of imagination. I, personally, would of course rather appreciate you _not_ using it."

Curious in spite of himself Vexen arched his eyebrows and tore into the layers of paper and string with perhaps a shade less patience than he had shown before. There was silky-soft cloth inside, white as pure as snow.

Marluxia shrugged.

"You were so adamant about it last time we were here, and then they all got lost on the boat. I thought you might appreciate a new one."

Freeing the nightshirt from the last bits of paper he gave it a critical assessment; it was long, flowy and meticulously seamed, finest quality, looking very comfortable indeed. There were silly white-on-white snowflakes embroidered on the collar, but you had to forgive the man his little flamboyant gestures.

"Thank you," he said. "That was thoughtful of you."

Marluxia gave him a slightly predatory smile.

"You're welcome. Feel free to leave it off tonight."

He shook his head exasperatedly.

"You are incorrigible. Which brings to mind…"

He handed over his much smaller packet, and Marluxia curiously weighed it in his hand and turned it over a few times before he gave in and started pulling on the strings to unwrap it.

Vexen kept his features perfectly impassive as the last layer of wrapping tissue was folded away to reveal the small lump of coal inside.

The look on Marluxia's face was priceless, absolutely _priceless_ , starting at absolute blank to pass through confused and incredulous before finally setting into petulant bordering on angry as he finally looked up.

"What is this?" he asked, disbelief still lingering in his voice.

"Mostly carbon and hydrogen, although there is probably a fair share of oxygen and sulphur in there as well."

"You know what I mean!" Marluxia snapped, eyes flashing.

"It's a lump of coal, Marluxia. It's what Santa gives to boys who have not been _good_. And you, Marluxia, have _not_ been a good boy this past year, have you?"

The Assassin still stood there, lump of coal in his outstretched hand, looking absolutely thunderstruck, and he couldn't hold back a savage grin any longer.

"One might even say," he said, leaning slightly closer, "that you have been downright _naughty_."

Marluxia just stared at him, his natural poise for once faltering, leaving him flustered and dumbfounded - and thus quite, quite irresistible.

In all fairness, the bad little habit of theirs had just as much to do with petty victories as any actual physical intercourse, Vexen thought to himself.

And he smiled and captured that half-open mouth in a soft kiss.

Marluxia grumbled something inarticulate, still pouting like a cross child, but grudgingly gave in and kissed him back.

"Cheap old miser," he muttered when they finally broke apart. Vexen just smirked and nipped at his lower lip.

"Uppish young brat."

Marluxia huffed, but he was smiling reluctantly now as well, tossing aside the offensive gift and reaching up to rake his hands through ash-blond hair.

"Prissy know-it-all."

Vexen leaned into the touch, half-closing his eyes, busying his hands with the sash of Marluxia's silken robes.

"Arrogant pup."

Marluxia nipped at his throat in retribution, then gave him a critical look.

"You look tired."

"I am," he admitted. "It was a long walk, and a late evening."

"You should rest." A devilish smile. "Or lie down, at any rate."

Marluxia could be _strong_ when he wanted, firm hands pushing him down on the bed without respite. Not really in a frame of mind to protest, Vexen let him.

Straddling him, Marluxia fastidiously unzipped his robes and gently slid calloused hands across his chest to rest them at his shoulders. He shuddered slightly as he felt those strong hands so close to his throat, but forced himself to relax. He was _almost_ certain Marluxia wouldn't willingly hurt him tonight.  
Almost.

"You're tense," the Assassin noted, massaging his shoulders slightly. "I told you to rest. Relax."

Meeting serious blue eyes he gave in, reluctantly closed his eyes and let taut muscles loosen up under those skilled hands.  
After a few minutes he felt the other's weight shift slightly and he made a protesting little sound.

"Don't fall asleep," Marluxia had leaned forward to mumble in his ear. "Not yet. I'm not done with you."

"Mixed signals, idiot," he muttered, cracking one eye open. "Don't make me settle down if you intend to keep me up all night."

Marluxia grinned down at him, their noses almost touching, pink hair falling down to frame his face and tickle Vexen's bare shoulders and forehead.

" _All_ night..?"

"Don't flatter yourself in the stamina department- oh."

Marluxia had shifted his weight again, leaning back. He hadn't even noticed the effect the other's proximity had had on him until the man's thigh brushed against his arousal. Suddenly his pants seemed _very_ constricting.

Marluxia moved slightly again and he couldn't bite back a groan. The infuriating bastard smirked at him.

"You just stay there," he said, elegantly sliding off him and reaching down to tug at his boots. "I'll take good care of you."

Vexen watched in silence as the Assassin undressed, then turned his attention to Vexen's own clothes, and finally to the bared skin beneath. With those nimble hands upon him, however, silence quickly ceased being an option.

And when Marluxia leaned forward again to drag rosy hair across his stomach, breathing hot air on his already painfully hard erection, he downright _whimpered_.

"Gods! Marluxia…"

Even with his blood somewhat heated by wine and eggnog, Marluxia was warmer still, and his mouth almost _burned_ , hot and wet and tight and _gods!_

When Marluxia pulled away he groaned out loud in disappointment.

"Now," the merciless devil said, tracing patterns with a finger across his stomach and chest. "What should I do to you for giving me such a lousy gift?"

Vexen glared up at him from the pillows.

"Don't you dare stop."

The bastard had the audacity to laugh.

"I'm not finished with you, never fear. But I think my poor… hands are in need of some of that lotion before we continue."

Biting back a curse, Vexen forced himself to wait patiently while Marluxia retrieved the considerably lighter bottle they had acquired in the Big Apple. Even though he had anticipated the sensation, he still jerked when those strong hands returned to his aching flesh slick with lotion.

Whatever relaxation he had once felt was long gone; his entire body had tensed, throbbing, until there was only the sensation of Marluxia's hands stroking him.

And then the Graceful Assassin straddled him again, pressing down slowly, grace and perfection in every movement, until he was fully sheathed, the strong fingers resting against his chest curling slightly.

"You are a foolish, foolish man," Marluxia told him, then leaned down and kissed him. Vexen decided he might let that insult slip, this once, just as long as Marluxia kept moving.

His hands found their way to the other's body on their own accord, caressed, squeezed, bruised, pulled him closer still. And Marluxia _moved_ on top of him, gods how he moved, riding him slow and deep, writhing and arching, graceful, graceful...

"You're beautiful," he found himself breathing, because such nonsense didn't count if the bastard didn't hear it, and besides it was _surely_ the alcohol talking.

"So are you," Marluxia replied, blue eyes burning, and very well, it didn't count if it _was_ overheard but requited.

They moved together, hot breath and plastering hair and clenching desperate hands, moved in unison and there was pain and pleasure and shivering outdrawn release.

Perfection.

It was quite some time later that Marluxia finally rolled off him, over to his side of the bed, but their hands remained outstretched, almost almost touching.

"Good night," Marluxia mumbled, sleep finally stealing grace and velvet voice away. "Impossible idiot."

Vexen snorted sleepily.

"Conceited imbecile."

Spent and rather sore, Vexen tried to make himself comfortable, thinking a few more well-phrased insults in the general direction of the man already asleep next to him.  
And then he remembered Marluxia had called him a terrifying habit, which was somewhat sweet, and the silly snowflakes adorning his new nightshirt. And the look on Marluxia's face when he opened his gift.

In the dark, Vexen smiled.


	58. Chapter 056 – Easy Living (XXX)

Chapter: 056 – Easy Living. (XXX)  
Location: London.  
Characters: Zexion, Lexaeus.  
Rating/Warnings: NC-17/Explicit sex.  
Summary: Oh, hey, did you want plot? Not really present here. Enjoy. 

**Chapter 056 : London – Easy Living. (XXX)**

* * *

Zexion settled down into a cross-legged position on the bed, watching Lexaeus shut and securely bolt the door behind him. "The nerve of Marluxia," he said after a moment. "Of all things to give me. Tea."

"It's the correct tea, at least," Lexaeus pulled off his shirt, pausing to double-check the lock. Just in case.

"Yes, which means I simply must drink it. But I shan't be able to without thinking of that arrogant…" he trailed off, choosing instead to focus on Lexaeus' now-bare chest. "..mm. I haven't yet given you your gift."

"So you haven't," Lexaeus agreed. "I assume that, like mine, it is a gift better given in private?"

Zexion's lips stretched into a thin, smug smile. "Indeed."

"I see." Lexaeus stopped in front of Zexion, standing, almost as if awaiting orders. "Shall we trade gifts, then?"

"That depends on if they are mutually exclusive or not." Zexion's eyes gleamed faintly.

Lexaeus reached out slowly and placed two fingers under Zexion's chin. Zexion's eyes closed, and he shivered. _How easily he could kill me, even with only two fingers._ Yes, he could feel the carefully-controlled strength there, strength that he, if he chose, could command. "I know that you like nothing better than control," Lexaeus rasped, voice deeper than usual. "And that is to be my gift to you."

Zexion licked his lips, opening his eyes again. "Is that so," he dropped his voice to something approaching a purr. "What a pity, because what I had purchased for you is something entirely different…" With a single gesture he summoned the Lexicon, opening it up to a certain page and making an imperious gesture. Four cords of fine lambskin leather appeared in his hand, and shook them slightly. "I believe you know the purpose of these."

Lexaeus' eyes darkened from a midnight blue to a navy so dark it was nearly black. "Yes," he rumbled, eyes never straying from the cords.

"I assume that, in my infinite kindness," Zexion ignored the barely-audible snort from his lover, "I will set aside my present from you until… another time, perhaps?"

Lexaeus' hand closed over the hand that held the leather cords. "I think," he mused, eyes flicking over the smaller Nobody, "that you might enjoy losing control just as much as gaining it. In some cases."

Zexion shivered, feeling a brief chill raise goosebumps over his skin, despite the fact that he was still fully-clothed. "Perhaps," he agreed, just a touch breathlessly. "You may be right, at that."

"Or," Lexaeus mused, taking Zexion's empty hand and placing it against his chest. "Perhaps we can improvise."

"Im… provise," Zexion echoed, fingers tracing a ridge of muscle. "Hm. We are both rather good at that."

"Sometimes," Lexaeus agreed, and caught one of Zexion's wrists in his hand, drawing it behind the Schemer's back and capturing the second hand in a similar fashion. His movements were so swift and unexpected that Zexion jerked a little, though not away from his lover, and dropped the leather cords. Lexaeus pinned both hands easily in one of his own, and picked up one of the suede strips, wrapping it neatly around both wrists, trying them together.

Zexion twisted a little, lips thinning faintly as he tested the bindings. Lexaeus was, among other things, a skilled tier of knots. And, unfortunately, he noted, the leather, though supple, was not stretching for him at all. "Damn," he muttered.

"Improvisation," Lexaeus rubbed the back of Zexion's neck gently, and smiled when the smaller Nobody relaxed with a content sound. "Hm."

"Mm?" Zexion lifted his head, unable to stop a sound of disappointment from escaping him when Lexaeus ceased his soothing massage. "What's in your head now?"

Lexaeus didn't answer, stepping back off the bed to undo his trousers and kick them off, brows knitted together in concentration and thought. Zexion remained silent, twisting slightly again, scowling when the ties continued to hold.

"You're much too… wiggly," Lexaeus moved back over, lightly grabbing Zexion by the back of the tunic and tugging him back to lie flat. Zexion muttered something uncomplimentary and squirmed to get his arms and shoulders in a slightly more comfortable position as Lexaeus rather single-mindedly worked on his pants.

Rather belatedly, Zexion realized that this position didn't allow him to remove his shirt. "That's annoying," he mused, squirming slightly again. "I suppose if you don't mind, I shouldn't."

"Mind what." It wasn't even really a question, as Lexaeus had successfully removed Zexion's boots and was in the process of tugging his pants off as well.

"Never mind." Zexion's mind was racing, trying to bring a way to turn this to his advantage. He twisted a little, debating if he could roll over and squirm away long enough to find something he could use to cut through the leather. _And ruin Lexaeus' gift? Well, I doubt he'd mind too much. Isn't this part of it after all?_

Lexaeus ran a hand up his thigh, eyes gleaming, and Zexion realized just exactly how exposed he'd be if he rolled over in his current predicament. And as exciting a prospect as that was- oh, yes, he had to admit it _would_ be exciting to have Lexaeus over him, his arms bound behind his back, unable to get away as Lexaeus spread him open...

He heard Lexaeus' low, rumbling chuckle and realized that some of that fantasy had to be affecting his physical appearance. "Good," Lexaeus' lips brushed his thigh, and he couldn't help but jump slightly.

"Are you planning on fooling around all evening?" Zexion couldn't help but sound slightly strained.

"Yes," Lexaeus bit down on the inside of his thigh, leaving a reddened mark. Zexion cursed and hooked a knee around his neck, pulling him closer.

"I expect to come through in _spades_ for this, you know," he squirmed again, swallowing any sound as Lexaeus easily grabbed his thighs and spread them apart. He didn't resist, but then again, he knew Lexaeus knew he wouldn't.

"Mm," Lexaeus agreed, swallowing him whole in one easy movement. Zexion tried, on instinct, to bring his hand to his mouth to bite down, to prevent any embarrassing sounds from escaping. That, unfortunately, was completely impossible and so a strained, desperate moan escaped.

Lexaeus pulled back, wiping a hand across his mouth. "What was that?"

"Damn you," Zexion breathed, arching up, wincing as the cold air struck wet, sensitive skin. "Don't you dare stop!"

Lexaeus chuckled and curled his fingers around his tortured erection, stroking briefly. "Oh?"

Zexion's eyes rolled back in his head and he let his head fall back, arching again. "Yesss, that's… better," speaking had become difficult, and another embarrassing moan escaped. "Much…"

Lexaeus pulled away again, and Zexion cursed him up and down, writhing. "So impatient," he rasped, settling himself onto the bed and gently drawing Zexion up. "I haven't complained."

Zexion's eyes flicked to the other's equally-hard arousal. "I see." He licked his lips and squirmed again, slipping free of Lexaeus' restraining hand and falling against the broad chest, pressing himself close quickly. "Maybe you should."

A swift intake of breath was his only answer. Seizing the control while he could, Zexion rolled his hips slowly, shuddering at the pleasure that tingled through him as he pressed his length against Lexaeus'.

The Silent Hero's hands flew to his shoulders and pushed him back, before falling to his hips and drawing him close. "Slow down," he rasped, pupils dilated. "Or this might end too soon."

"Bold admission," Zexion, held in place by arms as unmovable as mountains, tried to pit his brains against Lexaeus' brawn. "Are you really so out of control? Are you unable to hold yourself back? Do I, with my slightest caress, the lightest of touches, the barest of kisses, drive you mad?"

Lexaeus stared at him for several seconds before pulling him close and crushing his lips against his. "Yes," he rumbled. "But unlike some, I have the control and the ability to bring pleasure before I take my own."

Zexion smirked- that was no doubt a zing at one or more of their erstwhile companions. Whether or not Lexaeus knew that for a fact, well, that could be discussed later. Much later. "Good." He let the smirk turn smug. Let the others think what they would, and snipe at them, at each other. He had what mattered; a strong guard at his back, and a skilled bedmate who would not go running to anything else that waggled its hips at him.

"That means," Lexaeus continued, settling Zexion down across his thighs, "that I will not hurt you any more than necessary."

"Not unless I want it," Zexion added, smirking. Lexaeus' eyes flicked to him in something approaching surprise, but the expression was there and gone so quickly that Zexion figured he imagined it.

"Yes," he agreed, pulling a small jar of massage oil out of the drawer in the nightstand. "Unless that is so."

"Mm, good, very good." Zexion gave up on fighting the bonds, leaning forward across Lexaeus' body, allowing the now-slick fingers to trail down his lower back and dip lower, spreading him open. He closed his eyes, sighing, carefully relaxing each necessary muscle, making Lexaeus' job easier.

Lexaeus slid his oil-free hand into Zexion's hair, enjoying the silky feel as he stretched the smaller Nobody open with first one, then two fingers. Allowing a rare smile to touch his lips, he listened to the low gasps and muffled moans as he carefully and gently prepared his lover. _If things were different. If._ He shook off his thoughts and pressed deeper, searching for and finding his sensitive prostrate. The smile turned rather predatory as Zexion gasped and jerked forward, letting a high, keening sound escape without meaning to.

He finally pulled his hand away as Zexion began to squirm and writhe again, mumbling things that might have been curses, might have been endearments. It was hard to tell with the Schemer. "Up," he rumbled, and repeated the order when Zexion gave him a glazed, confused look.

Zexion rose to his knees and, with understanding dawning, eagerly scooted forward a few inches. "It's about time," he shook his hair out of his face, giving Lexaeus a mock-glare with both eyes visible. "You always take forever."

"My apologies," Lexaeus murmured, fighting to keep the smirk off his own face. "Perhaps I'll think better of it in the future."

"Perhaps you will," Zexion agreed, watching Lexaeus coat himself with the oil. "Yes…" Without waiting for Lexaeus' word, he seized the moment and guided himself down onto his lover, letting his head fall back. _Finally. It's been too long since we had the time, since we could…_

Lexaeus held himself very still, though his hands had flown from guiding himself into Zexion to the blankets almost immediately, fisting up and popping stitches in the quilt. His thighs strained with the effort of keeping himself from thrusting up blindly.

Zexion sighed, just taking a moment to _feel_ , fully seated atop his bedmate. "Mm." He dropped his head back, tilting his head with almost detached, clinical curiosity at the strain visible on Lexaeus' face. "Ah. Not that easy, is it?"

"Zexion," Lexaeus rasped, and there was a wealth of words in that single name.

"Oh? Did you want something?" Zexion rocked his hips very slightly, dropping his head back again as the movement wrenched a groan from Lexaeus. "Oh, I think you do…"

"Zexion." His tone was definitely more strangled this time, and he sounded almost _desperate_ , almost _pleading_ …

"What is it you always say to me?" Zexion longed to lean forward, splay his hands across that broad chest and roll his hips again, but he could only lean back a bit more, drawing him a little deeper. "Mm. Oh, yes… as you wish." He all but purred it, leaning forward as best he could without overbalancing, bringing his knees against Lexaeus' hips and drawing himself up, then sinking back down.

Lexaeus made a low, wordless sound, nearly a growl. Whatever thread of tenuous control he'd had snapped, and as Zexion sank back down, his hips snapped up, driving himself home in a swift, almost rough movement.

Zexion choked down a cry, shuddering and nearly collapsing forward. Lexaeus' hands flew to his hips, holding him steady, allowing him to rise again on shaking legs, to almost gratefully sink back down into the thrust that he knew was coming.

Neither could keep the pace for long, and, almost unwillingly, Lexaeus freed a hand from holding Zexion upright to splay across his stomach, dragging downward and curling around his leaking erection, stroking to match their frenzied movements. Zexion keened again, swallowing it into a choked wail as his body twitched and shuddered, arching back as his climax took him. Lexaeus watched him with dark, starving eyes, thrusting up twice more before his own release washed over him, silently and with gritted teeth.

Zexion's legs gave out and he sprawled forward across Lexaeus' chest, hands still bound behind his back. "Powers," he gasped, spots still dancing in his vision. "Oh…"

Lexaeus raised a hand to his mouth, licking his fingers clean rather absently. Something he had read so long ago, something about power and control and sex ran through his mind. He dismissed it with a mental wave of the hand, and dropped his arm around Zexion, pulling him close. His clean hand slowly drifted to the knot and, in an embarrassingly (for Zexion) few moves had completely untied and unwrapped the leather cord.

They lay in silence for a long moment, basking in the afterglow and enjoying the faint echoes of pleasure that remained. Zexion brought his arms around to rest on Lexaeus' chest.

After several long, comfortable moments of silence, Zexion raised his head and rested his chin on his arms. "Lexaeus. I am warm and comfortable."

"Mm," Lexaeus agreed, rubbing Zexion's back lightly, half-sitting up to draw a clean quilt over them both.

"I have always felt warm and comfortable around you," Zexion added quietly, after another quiet moment. "I never feel more safe than when I feel you at my back."

"I am glad," Lexaeus murmured, and was rather dully surprised to realize that he truly _meant_ that.

"Where…ever we go," Zexion said slowly, sounding more like Ienzo than Lexaeus had heard since they had lost their hearts, all those long years ago. "Whatever happens. You will stay by me."

It was not phrased as a question. Zexion would never ask such a thing. Lexaeus smiled, and stilled his hand, resting it on the small of Zexion's back. "Only my death will take me from your side. You have seen that."

Zexion closed his eyes and turned his head away, resting his cheek against Lexaeus' chest now. "Yes," he agreed quietly. "That was what I thought."

Lexaeus closed his eyes and settled back against the pillows. "Goodnight, Zexion," he said quietly. "Rest well."

There was no answer, but Zexion stretched out one arm, and lightly curled his fingers around Lexaeus' hand. Lexaeus smiled again. His face almost ached from the unfamiliar expression. Turning his hand slightly, he laced their fingers and squeezed.

He felt Zexion smile against his chest as he fell asleep.


	59. Chapter 057 – Bedtime Speculations

Chapter: 057 – Bedtime Speculations.  
Location: London.  
Characters: Larxene, Axel.  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (Swearing).  
Summary: Not _everyone_ has energy left. 

**Chapter 057 : London – Bedtime Speculations.**

* * *

Larxene groaned and rolled over on her back.  
"Will those two _never_ be done? I swear, Zexion will look like a raw steak tomorrow morning…"

Axel grunted something sleepily and made the embers on the hearth flame up.  
"At least we're not hearing it in stereo anymore."

"Hah. Everyone's getting some but me."

Axel's face was unreadable in the flickering light, the eyes mirroring the flames.  
"That's too bad. Want some help?"

She tittered.  
"Thanks for the offer, dearie, but I'm already stuffed. Need no further assistance right now."

They both fell silent as the sounds from behind the locked door came to a breathless crescendo and ebbed out.

"Well, _finally_."

"No consideration for poor people trying to get some sleep."

"None at all. Disgusting."

"Want to knock and complain?"

"No, but I'd love to see _you_ try."

Silence fell once more over the room.

"…So….. Who do you think was on top?"

Larxene peeked up over her pillow.  
"Now I know you _really_ are drunk. Lex, of course."

"No, I meant in there." he said, with a wave of the hand in the direction of the other bedroom.

That made Larxene laugh out loudly.  
"Now that's an interesting question. Given the quick finish, I vote for Vexen. I betcha he can't keep it up for long."

"Wow, harsh. Comparing him to Lexaeus isn't really fair, is it?"

"Isn't it? I always thought they were kind of the same age… boring old men."

"Boring old men who brought you black lace panties. _Tiny_ black lace panties."

A pleased smile crossed her face. "That's right, he did. I really should give him a break. He obviously has a kinkier mind than I have given him credit for."

"I saw that _way_ ahead of you. Anyone who'd willingly fuck someone who screwed him over like Marluxia did Vexen has a sick, sick mind."

"Nah, he must just like getting kicked around."

"That's what I said."

"Besides, from what I can see it's not Marluxia doing the kicking around these days."

"Perverts, the lot of them."

"Well, at least they don't run after little underage blond boys."

Axel stilled, ceasing his chuckling. "Watch it, Larxene."

Her laugh was cruel.  
"Really, Axel, you _are_ amusing! One could almost think you have a heart sometimes."

"You know, sometimes you go way too far."

"I know. Isn't it fun? And so very easy, too."

Axel snorted and demonstratively rolled over and turned his back to her.  
"Good night, Larxene."

A trickling laugh was her only reply, and he squashed an urge to set fire to her pillow or something equally childish and satisfying.

Without his encouragement, the embers soon faltered and the shadows reclaimed the room. Soft little snores drifted over from Larxene's divan.

Perhaps he had had a bit too much of the wine and the eggnog. His head felt hot and a bit too big for his body, his mind buzzed gently in a way that both made him sleepy and prevented him from going too sleep.

Perhaps it was the wine, perhaps just another stray childish thought. His fingers moved nearly of their own accord, burning letters in the wood of the sofa. An R, an O…the smell of charred wood tickled his nose.

When it was done, he stared at the result for a short moment, his mind blank. Then he swore quietly and threw the pillow over the spot. Useless. Utterly useless.

He stared up into the ceiling until deep, dreamless sleep finally took him.


	60. Chapter 058 – Many Meetings

Chapter: 058 – Many Meetings.  
Location: The World that Never Was.  
Characters: Xemnas, Xigbar, Saïx, Xaldin, Demyx, Luxord.  
Rating/Warnings: PG/none.  
Summary: The Fellowship of the Ring, this ain't. The remains of the Organization gathers its hand. 

**Chapter 058 : The World that Never Was – Many Meetings.**

* * *

Saïx was in a _mood_.

Xigbar couldn't help but be faintly amused, watching him from across the meeting room. Well, across and down, really. Not that it really mattered.

 _Wonder what stick he has up his ass today?_

Drumming his fingers on the arm of his throne, he watched Saïx twitch occasionally and dig his nails into the arm of his own chair. _What's got him so riled up? He's usually at least under control for the meetings. Xemnas has gotta be slippin'._

He tilted his head back and looked up at the high, vaulted ceiling, momentarily bored, humming tunelessly. _Another damn meeting. Second time in three days! What the hell are we all here for anyway._

"Xigbar."

He dropped his head and grinned. Flicking his fingers a bit, he let Xaldin's dreadlocks fall back to their normal position from their previously-near vertical height. "Oops. Sorry, dude. You know how the mind wanders and all that. Don't want anyone mistakin' you for Medusa."

Xaldin grunted, and Xigbar's grin only grew. _Yeah, dude, I'm lucky you like me. I think I'm about the only one who can get away with shit like that._

"Hey, are you all right, Saïx?" The kid- Demyx- spoke up. (Sure, Roxas was a lot younger than Demyx, but he _acted_ more mature, and that was kind of what really counted there to Xigbar.) "You're kind of leaving marks on the chair."

He shrank back in his seat as Saïx glared at him, thoroughly cowed. "Right," he mumbled. "Of course."

Xigbar shook his head a bit. _Too bad the kid doesn't have a spine outside of a real fight. Hell, sometimes he doesn't even have one_ in _a real fight. I wonder if he's even all there._

That made him pause and snicker. _Who the hell am I kidding? None of us are all here._

He turned that phrase over in his mind, inwardly delighted with it. _It means_ so much _now, I mean, seriously._ His eye roved over the six empty thrones. _Lots more than it ever did._

"We can now begin." Xigbar's gaze was drawn upwards and he fought down a snort. _When did you get here, huh?_

Xemnas laced his fingers together and turned his burning gaze upon Saïx. "Speak of what you have found."

Xigbar's eye rolled back in his head and he flopped back against the back of his throne, crossing his arms. The _last_ thing he wanted to hear was Saïx drone on for the next fifteen or twenty minutes about absolutely nothing.

"I believe they are alive," Saïx said quietly, but his eyes glowed faintly from within, and his nails dug ever more into the arm of his chair. "And I believe we can find them."

Now Luxord sat up and took notice. "Wait, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Saïx merely _looked_ at him, and the Gambler slapped his knee, chuckling quietly, shaking his head. "You're bloody insane. We went over Oblivion with a fine-toothed comb, there was no _possible_ way that anyone could have survived that!"

Saïx opened his mouth to argue- or, more likely, tell him to shut the hell up- when Xemnas beat him to it. "Luxord. That's enough. Saïx, continue."

Xigbar crammed his fist in his mouth to stop the fit of the giggles that threatened to continue while Saïx sat down and laid out his evidence.

"Tell us something we don't already know," the Freeshooter chuckled, leaning back in his throne. "Xal and I could've told you that."

"Leave me out of this," Xaldin muttered, slouching back into the embrace of his own throne. Saïx's nostrils flared and his eyes gleamed dangerously.

"If you had prior knowledge, you should have come forth!" The Luna Diviner snapped, leaving gouges half and inch deep in the arms of his throne. "You should have mentioned it!"

"Why?" Xigbar put his arms behind his head. "You've put all the pieces together, it seems, so you can just offer up this great find of yours like it was all your idea, can't you. …except I guess I ruined it there, didn't I. Oops." He grinned ear to ear, looking down at Saïx.

"Why you-!" Saïx was halfway out of his chair when Xemnas' voice rang out.

"That's enough! Saïx, sit down. Xigbar, do not antagonize him. He is correct- you should have spoken up in a previous meeting."

"Yeah, yeah, I mentioned it," Xigbar muttered, but flopped back, quieting down immediately.

"Saïx. Continue." At the Superior's command, Seven did as he was told, shooting murderous glares at Two all the while.

"Good," Xemnas said, when Saïx was done. "We have a new task. We will search every world, every path through the Darkness. No stone will remain un-turned, no shadow un-checked. We will find them if they still live, and we will teach them why one does not turn their back on the Organization."

Despite his death's-head grin, Xigbar couldn't help but feel a faint shiver of something approaching fear down his back. _I could feel pretty sorry for those poor bastards… If they aren't dead._

"We will all search," Xemnas was continuing. "We will split apart and search each world, and upon discovering them, we will convene and teach them the error of their ways."

"Gotcha." Xigbar was grinning. "So where are Xal and I off to."

Xemnas looked down at him, even as Xaldin shook his head in mild despair at his on-off partner. "We will go separately," Xemnas told him. "To cover more ground."

"Wait, what?" Xigbar looked displeased, at the same time Demyx spoke up.

"Does that mean I get to go too?" The boy looked _eager_ , almost like a damn puppy dog.

"Yes," Xemnas admitted, with seeming reluctance. "You will go as well. There are worlds you will be able to scout easily."

Demyx looked like Christmas had come early. Xigbar slumped back into his seat and scowled. "Well, when do we leave then."

"As soon as possible," Xemnas swept the room with his gaze. "We must bring our wayward children home."

Xigbar grinned and opened a portal behind him. _Good, that'll give me an hour to kill, no problem. I bet I can distract Xaldin easy…_


	61. Chapter 059 – Claustrophobia

Chapter: 059 – Claustrophobia.  
Location: London.  
Characters: Larxene, Axel, Vexen, Zexion, Lexaeus, Marluxia.  
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (Mentions of naughty gay sex).  
Summary: Our Nobodies are just not cut out to live six people in a three-room apartment in a snowy world without central heating and hot water. (As if anyone is that.) Tempers flare. 

**Chapter 059 : London – Claustrophobia.**

* * *

The snow continued to fall, day after day. The carts in the streets ran it down into freezing mud underneath their wheels, but on the rooftops and windowsills it still gleamed white.

The Nobodies avoided as best as they could to step out in it, preferring to hole up inside in the warmth. Theirs was not a group suited for close quarters, though.

Axel sucked in air though his teeth as he stomped down the street. Stupid _stupid_ , worthless idiots the lot of them, and Larxene most of all. Or maybe Zexion. Or maybe Lexaeus, always backing the little slimy maggot up like a faithful watch dog…

In fact, let them all rot in hell. He'd laugh.

He stopped by a canal, leaning against the railing and moodily kicked lumps of snow into the water. How long had he been wandering now? However long it had been it was clearly too long. His feet were numb, frozen lumps at the end of his legs. He had vivid flashbacks to that damn ice float and Vexen's bloody foolishness on the boat.

Fuck Vexen, too.

The water swirled black beneath him, pieces of ice carried along by the current. He decided that enough was enough. If Zexion was still hogging his sofa, he'd just damn well kick the man off, malaria or no malaria.

With snow settling gently on his shoulders, he headed back home.

He could hear loud voices as soon as he entered the front door. Seemed like Vexen and Larxene were having yet another argument.

"That's _my_ hairbrush, thank you very much!"

"Just let her borrow it, for Darkness' sake." It was Marluxia's voice, clearly irritated.

"No one is asking for _your_ opinion!"

Axel sidled into the living room, halfway expecting a hairbrush to come flying at his head.

"Well, well… what do we have here?"

The party all turned to glare at him. Vexen took the opportunity to snatch the brush out of Larxene's hand and stalked back into the bedroom. Larxene spat after him.

"Thanks a lot, Axel!"

"Hey, don't drag me into this, bitch."

Seeing that everyone was still as hostile and high stung as when he'd left, he retreated down the stairs to take refuge in Mrs. Cratchit's kitchen.

The Christmas cheer sure was wearing off.  
Everyone was at each other's throat, snarling over every little imagined slight and provocation. Vexen was close to impossible to be around and Zexion was lurking in his bedroom when not out sniping at people. Lexaeus was dealing with the situation in his own way, which was to avoid it as best as he could. By now, he spent most of his time out on long, supposedly blessedly quiet walks.

Seemed like Marluxia had taken a leaf out of the big man's book, because he, too, spent more and more time out on the streets. Axel was grateful, having listened to more than one screaming match when trying to sleep.

Either they were fighting or they were fucking. Either way, Axel suffered. It just wasn't fair.

He never thought he's say it, but he missed Oblivion and its large, empty hallways. There had been so much space and a distinct lack of annoying fellow members rubbing up against him as soon as he turned around. Funny how at the time he had felt like he was drowning in the others' presence. Being holed up like this sure gave you a perspective on things.

He begged another cup of tea from the hostess and settled down by the kitchen window. The snow was piling up high against the glass, hiding the courtyard from view. He stayed like that until all the sounds upstairs had died down long ago, and the only thing moving in the streets were the lamp lighters and lonely carriages rattling over the cobbles. Then he snuck up the stairs like a thief in the night to his sofa, for a few hours of blissfully undisturbed sleep.

Zexion reached into the fireplace to retrieve the boiling kettle, carefully pouring the water into the teapot waiting on the table. A cloud of steam rose, filling the air with the scent of tea.

Of _delicious_ tea, damn the bastard to hell.

He paused in his efforts as sudden, loud voices reached him from beyond the door to Vexen's and Marluxia's bedroom. His sensitive ears perked; seemed his curse might all ready be taking effect. He could hear Marluxia growling, voice filled with ire, and Vexen's shrill retorts.

Perfect entertainment for his tea.

Having extraordinary hearing was a blessing he often found very useful, but soon he stopped concentrating and leaned back as the voices rose to a level one could surely hear even out in the street.

Larxene was reclining on her divan, uninterestedly leafing through _A Young Woman's Guide to a Virtuous Living_ and snorting at the more outrageous parts. Now she glanced at the door with raised eyebrows.

"Loud today, aren't they?"

Zexion hummed something noncommittally back and took another sip of the damned tea.

The door banged open against the wall and Marluxia stormed out, not even glancing at the occupants of the room before sweeping off down the stairs. The walls shook as the front door crashed shut after him. Larxene made an amused sound.

"Oh, _dear_."

Vexen emerged from the bedroom, glaring daggers after Marluxia and sucking air in though his teeth.

"You have only yourself to blame, you know," Zexion helpfully commented. "An unrefined Neophyte like that. What _do_ you see in him that you can't resist? Never had you pegged as one for carnal urges."

Vexen threw him a sour glance. "I notice _you_ are drinking _his_ tea, Zexion. I'm not the only one who can't resist my 'urges'."

"Me? I can quit at any time," Zexion replied and took another sip. "But, really, Vexen. It's distasteful."

A snort. "You? Quit? You could no more refrain from that tea than you could stop breathing. If Xemnas appeared here with a teapot in hand, all you'd do was to fetch a cup."

"At least _I'm_ not sharing my… cup with Larxene."

Larxene peeked over the edge of her book. "Now, now, Zexion. That's not really nice. I'm totally willing to let Vexen have the cup to himself. I'm more of a kettle kind of girl."

Zexion threw her a disgusted look. "You have a filthy mind."

"Filthy? Aren't we talking about tea here?" Her big turquoise eyes brimmed over with feigned innocence.

Vexen stalked over to sit on Axel's abandoned sofa, a hint of his trademark sneer on his face. "I agree. It's clearly Zexion who has the filthy mind here. And, let me add, a taste for overly large kettles…"

Larxene hooted with laughter and put aside her book. "Vexen, you darling!"

"Well, I have always thought that teatime should be a _quality_ event," Zexion replied tersely.

"Size has little to do with quality when it comes to tea sets, Zexion."

"Ah, but when you keep to your own set at least you know that which you put in your mouth hasn't been in anyone else's first."

The other two gave him nearly identical annoyed glances.

"Without even getting close to the dish soap in between," he clarified. "Unhygienic, I say. Never know what you might catch."

Vexen sneered again. "We should consider ourselves lucky, then, that Marluxia always keeps the dish soap close at hand?"

Larxene pouted. "And what shall a girl do, with you hogging all the "quality" tableware? If you let me borrow your kettle, I'll make sure to clean it properly afterwards..."

"I don't want my kettle anywhere near your cups."

"Don't go to the trouble, Larxene." Vexen had served himself some of the brew from Zexion's teapot and calmly stirred the contents of his cup with a small spoon. "After all, the kettle isn't everything in making a good cup of tea. One has to consider the brewing as well."

"And on that note," Zexion butted in, "I'm very particular that nothing about _my_ tea should foam _green_."

That earned him a green-eyed glare over the brim of Vexen's cup. "I suppose that you prefer it topped with cream and a dollop of honey."

"Your taste for tea is truly horrendous…"

Zexion fell silent at the sounds of heavy steps in the staircase. Lexaeus came into view, shaking snow off from his shoulders and stamping it from his boots.

"Greetings," he rumbled, seeing the company spread around the room. The Silent Hero picked up the tense mood immediately, glancing questioningly at Zexion.

His lover shook his head slightly, not willing to try and explain.

"Welcome back, Lexie!" Larxene twittered gaily. Zexion scowled.

"Lexaeus." Vexen took another mouthful of tea. "And as I said, Zexion, your taste when it comes to tea hardly gives you the right to criticize my… drinking habits."

"It's not the tea, it's the kettle it comes in," Zexion shot back.

"I thought we were talking about cups, not kettles," Larxene said.

Lexaeus tried to follow the conversation, a small frown on his forehead.

"Personally, _I_ find the habit of drinking straight from the kettle _disgusting_."

"Oh, shut it, Larxene. You do not."

Lexaeus cleared his throat. "There is no need to argue. I'm sure there is enough tea in the kettle for everyone."

Zexion and Vexen faltered in their argument, both turning to stare at Lexaeus as Larxene dissolved into giggles. Lexaeus stared back.

"...What?"

"Lexie, darling." Larxene slid up to him, rubbing affectionately along his arm before gliding out through the door. "That's a _wonderful_ idea. You should tell Zexion to share his tea more often. I'm parched."

Zexion ground his teeth at her retreating back. Vexen swallowed the last few drops in his cup and rose. " _Really_ , Lexaeus. I'd never thought I'd hear that kind of language from you, old friend."

Vexen retreated into the bedroom, and number Five and Six stared at each other in silence.

"Would you care to enlighten me?"

Zexion took another swallow as to rinse his mouth. "Forget it. Just forget it."

It finally stopped snowing, just to start raining. The snow turned to icy, dirty slush, and not even Lexaeus and Marluxia braved the outdoors anymore. The tension inside rose yet another notch.

Vexen finally seemed to shake the last of his illness, if you counted his irate tetchiness a sign of good health. Zexion still preferred to huddle in front of the fire, but at least he didn't seem to suffer any serious lasting effects from his brush with death.

The same could not be said for the group as a whole, though.

Lexaeus and Zexion had used Axel's thoughtful Christmas gift to make sure they would not be disturbed in their room, and now enjoyed the peace.

"We will have to leave soon."

Zexion only nodded as his companion stated the obvious. "Yes. The sooner the better, I say."

"Are you sure?"

Zexion could see the worry in the steady eyes, and understood perfectly what it meant.

"Yes. Don't worry, Lexaeus. I'm fully healed. What I need now is not more rest, it's just getting away from this horrible little apartment on this horrible cold, draughty and dreary world and find myself some sunshine."

Lexaeus poured himself more tea. "Then leave we shall. I'll inform the others tomorrow."

That made Zexion smile. "Just make it all sound as if it's their own idea, will you?"

"That will not be hard. They are as eager as we are."

 _To continue our flight,_ Zexion added to himself. As bad as the weather-induced claustrophobia was, the fear of being found lurked deeper down.

He finished his tea and lured Lexaeus back into bed with him, whiling away the hours as best as they could. Falling asleep afterwards was easy, for once warm and relaxed in the twisted sheets and Lexaeus' arms.

He could almost ignore the small tight knot in his chest that seemed to grow every day, with irritation, urge and fear.

 _Soon. We'll move soon, tomorrow. Then it will be better. Much better._


	62. Chapter 059 – Director's Cut 01 – God

Director's Cut: 01 – God, That's Good!  
Location: London.  
Characters: Axel, Lexaeus. Zexion, Larxene, Marluxia, Vexen.  
Rating/Warnings: None, save from a bit of squick.  
Summary: Lunch at Mrs. Lovett's.  
Author's Note: This was actually a planned scene we never got around to, so the request was a perfect excuse to finally get it done. :) 

**Director's Cut 01 : London – God, That's Good!**

* * *

It was an unusually fine day, no snow falling and most of the slush on the streets dried away by the faint, listless sunlight.

It had seemed a good idea to make a quick sweep for provisions before they left London, not knowing if or when they would visit a large city again, and so most of the morning had been spent prowling department stores and small shoppes along the icy streets.

It still didn't take too much to tire Zexion and Vexen, however, and so the group had finally retreated to a small restaurant for lunch.

"I'm not all that hungry," Zexion was assuring Lexaeus, who would hear none of it.

"You need to eat to regain your strength."

The others were already digging in with good appetites, famished after the tedious hours of shopping.

"I'll have to remember that tailor-place," Larxene said with her mouth full. "That lingerie was even nicer than my new coat. Maybe we can come back here some other time so I can get some more stuff."

"We shouldn't visit the same world more than once," Vexen predictably lectured her, and she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, except when _you_ need medical care-.." she suddenly choked on something in her meat pie, coughed a few times and spat out the object into a napkin.

"The hell? What's this?"

She held it up for inspection, frowning.

"It's a finger. A human finger. There's an actual finger in my actual meat pie!"

The worn-looking lady behind the counter quickly hurried over at Larxene's loud outcry, her eyes somewhat shifty.

"Something the matter, love?"

"I should think so!" Larxene exclaimed, upset, repeating. "There's a _finger_ in my meat pie!"

"Course not, dearie, that's a rabbit's foot, that is, never you mind it..."

"That's no rabbit's foot," Larxene scowled. "Don't you think I know what a chopped-off finger looks like?"

The others had stopped eating, eying their half-eaten meals with varying degrees of horror.

Once again the haggard woman cast a shifty glance at the ceiling, absently patting a cloud of flour from her apron.

"Goodness, but that's awful if it is, must be Toby's, the clumsy boy, had an accident with the chopper he did..."

Vexen had poked at his pie with his fork and was now staring at the ear dug out from inside.

"Yeah, sure, whatev," Larxene muttered, tossing the offending appendage over her shoulder. "Just get me a new pie, will you? And make sure it's finger-free this time!"

"Perhaps," Lexaeus said, voice strangely weak, placing a handful of coins on the table, "we should just move on - and eat at home from now on."

"Nice pies," Larxene said, patting the haunted woman on the shoulder on the way out. "Just between you and me, though - you may want to cut down a bit on the coriander."


	63. Chapter 060 – Always A Bigger Fish

Chapter: 060 – Always A Bigger Fish.  
Location: Havfruehavn.  
Characters: Larxene, Axel, Vexen, Zexion, Lexaeus, Marluxia, Xigbar.  
Rating/Warnings: PG/none really. A bit of swearing.  
Summary: The Renegades arrive on yet another world and take stock of their new surroundings. More and less expected drama unfolds. 

**Chapter Chapter 060 : Havfruehavn – Always A Bigger Fish.**

* * *

There were seagulls, their hoarse calls mixing with the whisper of waves under the bright morning sun. The mild breeze carried a hint of salt and, unfortunately, a whiff of the rotting fish and seaweed smell of harbours everywhere.

The town they had just arrived in might be even more primitive than the one they'd left behind, but it was picturesque as a postcard, the sunlight was bright and warm without being scorching and the few people who had even bothered to take notice of them had just nodded and smiled.

Larxene perched daintily on the edge of the fountain adorning the small town square and lazily passed her hand through the cool water, waiting for Lexaeus to finish haggling over the price of their rooms-to-be. He'd been at it for quite some time.  
Zexion had opted to sit down by the fountain as well, eyes closed, soaking up sunshine like a lazy cat. The idyllic tableau was completed by Vexen pacing restlessly nearby and Marluxia haughtily pretending not to see Axel pilfering coins from the bottom of the fountain.

She considered zapping the redhead's roving fingers through the water but magnanimously decided against it. No need to start trouble so soon after arriving, with everyone still a bit jumpy. This was a nice place, infinitely better than the ever-cold and dreary city they'd just left behind.

After what felt like the better part of an hour Lexaeus returned, keys in hand, apparently finally satisfied with the price. With various degrees of enthusiasm they all dragged themselves back to their feet, flinging bags back on their shoulders to go inspect their new lodgings.

"No more Mrs Cratchit to do the dishes for you," Axel happily pointed out to Marluxia as they entered the door. "I hope you haven't gotten rusty."  
The Assassin gave him an altogether unfriendly stare, but didn't deign with a reply.

They dumped heavy bags on the floor inside the door, blinking to adjust their eyes to the sudden lack of bright sunlight.  
It was a good place, with a large common room and private bedrooms for each couple. While a bit on the primitive side it was still decently clean and airy, and so it was almost a full minute before the complaining started.

"There's only one bed in the bedroom," Vexen stated accusingly. "One very _small_ bed, I might add. Had you planned on us sleeping stacked on top of each other, Lexaeus?"

"Don't you always, anyway?" Axel coughed into his fist and earned himself an angry green-eyed glare. Lexaeus sighed.

"You'll make do, I'm sure. The other rooms are no better. We've weathered worse. Be reasonable."

Vexen bristled.

"I am being perfectly reasonable! It may be all right for _you_ two, seeing as how you're always all over each other, but not everyone share your crude tastes! Not only am I stuck with Marluxia for life, now you want us to cuddle up and sleep together in each others' laps?"

Marluxia narrowed his eyes slightly.

"If you resent sharing quarters with me so much, then don't."

Vexen made an exasperated gesture.

"It's not as though I have a choice, now do I?"

Marluxia pressed his lips together, and you could almost hear the sound of a patience stretched thin for far too long finally snapping.

"But _I_ do. And by all powers that be, I've had _enough._ "

He turned with a gallant bow and proffered a hand to Larxene who had much like the others watched the unfolding argument with curious amusement.

"Larxene, my dearest, my nymph, my rose of a thousand thorns..? Share a room and a bed with me?"

"Oh, my," she giggled, pressing a hard to her sharp little smile. "Such flattery! What can a girl do but succumb?"

She fluttered over to the Assassin and wrapped his outstretched arm around her, melting up against him.

"I seem to recall, though," she added with a purr, "that we never really needed a bed much, you and I. Any reasonably flat surface would do just _fine_."

Vexen was staring at the pair in disbelief, looking perfectly thunderstruck, for once shocked temporarily silent. Axel, on the other hand, quickly added two and two together and gave a loud heartfelt groan.

"Oh, no, no. _Crap_ , don't _do_ this to me, Larx! I'm not spooning in that tiny bed with Queen Prissy! He'll kill me in my sleep, you know it! Come _on!_ "

"That seems to be room arrangements all sorted out then," Lexaeus deadpanned, washing his hands of the looming disaster. Zexion just grinned, looking from one angry face to the next with unmistakable delight.

"That is your choice, then?" Vexen finally said, voice low and somewhat strained. Marluxia gave him a tart look.

"A warm, welcoming, beautiful companion – do you really think my choice strange? I'm tired of suffering constant insults and impossible demands. Not to mention," he sniped, "always-cold feet and bony hips."

In the sudden hush all eyes were eagerly drawn to the ice-wielder.

Vexen's nostrils flared, an eyebrow twitching once, all colour slowly draining from his face.

Then, without another word, he turned, stalked out the door and slammed it shut behind him with enough force to rattle the windows of several adjacent buildings.

"Wow," Larxene breathed in the following silence, "I didn't think you could _get_ living skin that colour."

"Now he'll be after blood for sure," Axel whined. "That's it, I'm barricading myself in that room, he'll just have to take the floor outside, serves him right."

"Let him cool off," Zexion shrugged with a languid wave. "He gets like that, sometimes. He'll be back in time for dinner, or at least when it starts getting dark. Dibs on the bedroom with sea view."

Marluxia was staring at the shut door, face hard and eyes unreadable. Nails scratching lightly at the back of his neck effectively served to distract him, however.

"No more moping over the ice-queen, love. You have yourself a woman to satisfy right here," Larxene grinned at him. "Let's go see if that bed is really as cramped as they said."

It was, but they made do.

He couldn't remember feeling so _angry_ for years. The sensation burned and festered inside his hollow chest, and screw all scientific theories of lack of emotion, he was _livid_.

 _Damn_ that man!

He finally stopped his rapid stride, shoulders heaving with his heavy breathing.

He'd walked far, through the town and down along the beach, restraining _almost_ all impulses to swear and kick at random features of the surrounding landscape.

Dumped, replaced _and_ humiliated in front of all the others, ho, that was a _good_ one!

He glared at a nearby rock, considered kicking it, but concluded the likely resulting pain in his toes wouldn't be worth the brief satisfaction.

Already the flaring anger was cooling and dissipating, but instead of comfortable bleak numbness beyond, he was horrified to find yet another tangled throng of absurd sensations.

There was _hurt_ , and that was beyond absurd, it was ludicrous, and also utter nonsense and he would have none of it.

He resolutely kicked at the rock, then slowly sank down it, staring emptily out over the tranquil waters.

He didn't need this.  
Didn't need any of it. Certainly didn't need the others, bastards every one of them. _Definitely_ didn't need to face the inevitable sneers and taunts awaiting him upon his return.

He could leave, go elsewhere do… something else, whatever.

Not that there was really anything he could or wanted to do anymore.

His life's endeavor had been cast away the moment they fled Oblivion; everything he had worked for, yearned for, sacrificed everything for over and again, all lost.

Having no heart was not that bad as long as one had purpose.

And, conversely, having no purpose had turned out bearable as long as you had… suitable distraction.

Constant anger and worrying, endless exasperation and frustration, not to mention filthy wondrous carnal pleasure had provided quite impressive distraction indeed.

No more.

He resisted the pointless urge to hide his face in his hands.

He had become dependent on the illusion of everyday concerns and simple gratification Marluxia had provided - _stupid!_ \- coming to depend slavishly on the one person in existence he should know better that to trust.

So lacking heart, purpose and as of an hour or two also treacherous lovers, what did a man do?

He could leave.

Aside from that near brush in Twilight Town and some jumping at shadows throughout the worlds, things had been quiet since Oblivion.

No Organization, no Keybearers or kings…

They seemed to have gotten away scot-free, fresh starts and all that, there was really nothing keeping him here.

It was after all only logical they would all split up sooner or later as their desire to see the last of the others overcame any reasons to stay together.

Maybe he shouldn't sit around and wait for it to happen.

He could leave, safety in numbers and a Nobody's reliance on habit be damned.

He could go to one of the more advanced worlds, see about acquiring the equipment to set up a new small-scale lab or whatever, find some sort of direction again, could go back to wrestling theorems and grand questions of existence rather than flower-scented lovers in the dark.

He _could_.  
Really.

He remained sitting on his rock for a long, long time, wind in his hair, staring at the endless open sea.

And then, defeated by himself once more, he went back to the house.

Axel sat by the table and poked morosely at Lexaeus' unceremoniously dumped backpack with his toes.

The others sure were taking their time… _inspecting_ their new rooms. Bastards. No concern for the common man, which in this case was Axel, who was bored and also getting rather hungry.

Weren't bothering keeping it down either, but then, Larxene rarely did. Bitch. He'd get back at her so bad for stranding him with Vexen. Burn her hair right off, would serve her right.  
 _All_ hair. Everywhere.

Somewhat comforted by the sweet visions of righteous revenge he looked up as Zexion and Lexaeus opened their door to join him in the common room. They didn't _look_ too ruffled, maybe they'd even had the restraint to put dirty deeds off until later? That or maybe a chair had been involved.

"We were thinking about heading out for dinner. Aren't Marluxia and Larxene done soon?" Zexion asked, as though _he_ would have any business knowing.  
He shrugged sourly.

"Knock and ask? Better yet, don't knock. I don't think they locked the door."

Zexion pursed his lips as though contemplating getting back at Larxene for her constant jibes about unlocked doors of the past, but before he could make up his mind the door in question opened and the two Nobodies emerged, looking only slightly worse for wear.

"We're going out for dinner and supplies," Lexaeus informed them.

"Mmm, excellent. I've worked up quite the appetite," Larxene purred, stretching like a sated cat. Disgusting was what it was. Bitch.

In fact, bitches the lot of them.

Sulking, Axel headed for the door. He could do with some fresh air.

Vexen had taken three steps onto the town square before he realized something was wrong.

A familiar black-clad shape stood by the fountain, reading a map or note, and it took Vexen a second to realize the figure wasn't familiar because it was one of his travelling companions, but that it was familiar because it was Xigbar.

The panic hit him like a physical force and he scrambled back into the relative safety of the alley from which he had emerged, a hundred frantic thoughts screaming in his head.

 _Xigbar! The Organization! They're here! Is he alone or are they all here? Have they found the others? Maybe I'm the only one left. Or maybe the others got away and ran. Maybe they're still inside, unaware of the danger…_

A very small, very petty part of him managed to find the time even in the face of extreme danger to gloat over the horrible fate awaiting that faithless dog Marluxia should the Organization catch him. He squashed it impatiently, only relishing in it a _little_.

An extremely quick glance around the corner confirmed Xigbar was still just standing there, back turned towards him, looking around as though he too had only just arrived and was still orienting himself.

And then, only a few yards away from the Freeshooter, the door to their recently rented rooms started opening and the telltale splash of red that was Axel's hair became visible.

He could have chanced being detected and portaled inside to warn the others.

Could have thrown everything to the wind and escaped this world, run for his life.

Could have done any of a million things, and for the rest of his existence it would remain a mystery to Vexen why in that split second when it really counted he had thought it a good idea to fling a two-foot icicle past Xigbar's nose to distract him for the few precious moments it took for the oblivious crew inside to spot the danger and hastily slam the door back shut.

Xigbar had already twirled around, guns in hands, narrowing his good eye at the dark alleyway from where the attack had come. And then he _grinned_.

Vexen stood frozen for a moment, blinked, then ran like hell.

Panic reigned in the cramped space, Zexion ripping a portal open and shrilling at the others to _move_ , Lexaeus having the sense to quickly grab his backpack without breaking his stride.

Axel took no chances but flung himself nearly headfirst into the Darkness. Larxene looked like a caged animal, eyes wide with terror and aggression even as she hurried towards the portal.

Marluxia stood rooted to the spot in indecision.

"What about Vexen?" he called out."Even if he gets away he'll have no way of finding us again once we leave!"

"He made his choice when he left us. He knew the stakes. Come _on!_ " Zexion hissed, frantic, one foot already in the void beyond.

Visibly torn Marluxia hesitated yet another precious second, then spat a foul curse and grabbed Lexaeus sleeve before the large man could follow the others through the corridor, jerked him around to look him in the eyes.

"Get out - run, jump a dozen worlds, confuse the trail. If you get away go to the floating island scatters in two weeks and met us there. Zexion can track us. If we're not there, keep running and never look back."

Silently meeting his eyes, Lexaeus merely nodded.

"And what do you think you're doing?!" Zexion growled. Marluxia made an impatient gesture.

"Making sure _everyone_ gets out alive. _Again_. Now go!"

Zexion threw him a disgusted look and hurried on through the rift. Larxene shook her head as she backed into the swirling darkness.

"Crazy bastard. He's not worth it, love. Don't get yourself killed."

Following the small blonde Lexaeus shot him a final unreadable look over his shoulder, then snuffed out the portal the instant he had passed through.

The sudden silence was deafening, and Marluxia took a deep breath, reaching for his inner center to balance himself for a moment before the dangerous task to come.  
Then he turned around, and promptly jumped and gave the most undignified squeak of his life at the sight of the grinning Xigbar standing right behind him.

"Heya, Marwhatever. Boy, have _you_ messed up big time! You're _really_ in for it this time, kiddo."

Scrambling, skipping backwards his reflexes took over as he dodged a shot and phased out of existence to re-emerge right outside the house, then rolled and leapt again as a barely evaded blast firmly reminded him that Xigbar knew that little teleporting trick as well.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it, kid?" he heard the older Nobody call out behind him as he dodged and teleported again. "Hauled your reluctant butt home to the happy Organization family once and I'll do it again."

Breathing hard Marluxia pressed himself back against a wall of a house off the square, desperately scanning the street for any glimpse of colorless blond. He'd allowed himself to forget how _fast_ that bastard Two could be. Fast and utterly infuriating.

A grizzled ponytail dipped into his vision from above and his head snapped back to catch sight of Xigbar hanging upside down right above him.

"But we can play tag first, if you like," the bastard grinned, taking aim right between his eyes.

Swallowing a curse he phased away again, flickering in and out of existence like dark lightning striking over and over and still there was no sign of Vexen anywhere.

The man had to be around _somewhere!_ He wouldn't leave on his own, _surely_ \- irrevocably severing all ties to the rest of the group would be utter madness.

Although possibly not quite as mad as staying put with a rampant Xigbar on the loose.

He stopped to catch his breath again – short-range instant teleportation might be a vastly useful skill in battle or flight, but it took cutting edge precision for every jump and wore you out fast, Darkness hungrily ripping and tearing at the edges of your being.

 _Vexen, you impossible fool, where are you?_

He didn't dare remain still for long, braced himself and blurred out of vision again, back to the square for another quick look around.

The townspeople still out on the streets were milling about in utter confusion faced with the otherworldly display, stumbling around whimpering and screaming.

The runaways had tried blending in for so long he had almost forgotten the Organization's careless way of treating natives like the cattle they were. Part of him admitted he almost missed it. It had been easier, if nothing else, and there was a _propriety_ to common people bowing away before him in awe.

Still not a trace of Vexen, though, and he clenched his teeth in frustration.

It would be so like the man to go and get himself lost or killed after they had parted on a bad note! Bastard probably did it on purpose!

What sort of idiot went and threw icicles at Xigbar anyway?

Picking another street he dashed off again, thought he saw a glimpse of black leather and grey-black hair behind him even as he left, hurried off even faster.

 _Don't think you're getting away from me, Vexen. I'm hauling you kicking and screaming out of here if it's the last thing I do._

He paused for a split second at a crossroads, swearing, picking a direction at random.

How could one so distinctive person be so hard to find in a town so small?  
Maybe Xigbar or any one of the others had taken him out already…

The Darkness really was getting to him; there was a clawing, fluttering twist to his guts and he shuddered with cold sweat. Angrily he clenched his jaws even harder to fight it down.

Resorting to walking for a bit to conserve his strength he set out to quickly scout another narrow winding street.

Behind him the Freeshooter whispered into existence, took careful aim at his quarry and smiled.

Vexen was a man falling apart, reduced to twanging nerves and all-out panic.

For whatever reason he had managed to escape Xigbar at the town square, and now he was huddling in the deep shadows of a doorway, desperately trying to decide what to do.

He had risked going back to the house only to find it empty.

He'd expected that, the sting of bitterness was brief and half-hearted. It was what he'd tried buying them time enough to do after all.

He probably would have followed others' example and dashed madly out of there, somewhere, anywhere - hah, maybe to that glorious future in a random civilized world he had envisioned less than an hour before! – but just then he'd caught sight of Marluxia giving Xigbar a merry chase across the square outside, and that had… complicated things.

Of course it would serve the two-timing whore-loving piece of filth right if he was dragged broken and bleeding back to Never Was to answer for his crimes. That had been the sole reason for his revival back in Oblivion, after all.

And yet, for whatever impossible, preposterous reason he couldn't shake the recent memory of deep blue eyes, naked and earnest, looking into his and-…

 _I suppose I wonder, if the roles had been reversed… Would you have stayed behind for me?_

Damn the man to hell.

Approached from a rational angle, however, Marluxia might also know where the others had gone off to, and suddenly that safety in numbers theory sounded very appealing indeed.

He could always enjoy Marluxia's downfall at some other future date, when the man wasn't also incidentally of convenient use.

Arriving at that conclusion had been the hard part.

Locating the bastard and getting them both out of the Organization's clutches alive should be child's play in comparison.

Right.

Halfway through a step Marluxia suddenly felt his feet turn to lead, his entire being shuddering as gravity slammed down around him with crushing force. He couldn't move, couldn't even breathe, his bones creaking and groaning under the pressure.

"Gotcha," a smug voice told him from behind, and a moment later Xigbar materialized in front of him, still grinning.

"See, there's your problem with the youth of today. No stamina! And not much brains either."

He clenched his jaw, would have sunk to his knees if the force had allowed even such movement; instead it felt as though his bones tried to simply grind right down through each other.

Xigbar gave him a thoughtful tap on the shoulder with his sniper rifle.

"You really turned out a bit of a dickweed, didn't you, Mar? Kind of makes me look bad when you think about it, recruiting dickweeds to our fine Organization. I might just decide to take that personally."

He shook his head dejectedly, but there was a sharp gleam in his eye that belied his feigned sadness; amused and evil it was really much, much worse.

"Gave us a bit of a chase, didn't you? And I'm guessing you ain't the only one. So, who else is scurrying about out there, I wonder? Vexen? That was one serious icicle before, too bad the old kook's got aim like a stick. Maybe-…"

And then a blur of black and blond and sweeping sleeves exploded from between the nearby houses, crashing shoulder-first into the scrawny Freeshooter and sending him flying unceremoniously into the rather cluttered alleyway across the street.

There was a loud outdrawn series of bangs, clangs, crashes and the occasional cat's yowl and very muffled swearing before silence descended again.

Vexen stood quivering with indignation and mortification where the grizzled man had stood seconds before, shaking a trembling fist in the general direction of the dead silent alley.

"That's for twenty-seven years of stupid scientific acronyms you _bastard!_ " he yelled, voice shrill and near breaking.

Marluxia just stared at the hyperventilating scientist in front of him for several moments before blinking and realizing the bone-crushing hold was broken and he could move again.

Stifled groans and clattering could be heard from the darkest depths of the alley, and without wasting any more time the Assassin resolutely grabbed an unresisting elbow and hauled the adrenaline-pumped blond backwards through a swiftly conjured portal and on into the darkness.


	64. Chapter 061 – As It Were

Chapter: 061 – As It Were.  
Location: The World That Never Was.  
Characters: Xemnas, Saïx, Xigbar.  
Rating/Warnings: PG/None.  
Summary: The mighty Freeshooter returns home to tell of his triumphs, or lack thereof.  
Author's Note: Dear friends, concludes TPBoD Book II - Enemies' Shadow. Never fear, though, the first chapter of Book III will be posted. Thanks for reading! 

**Chapter 061 : The World That Never Was – As It Were.**

* * *

Xemnas stood in the moonlit Hall, gravely listening to Saïx' initial report, when sudden uneven footsteps approached through Twilight's View and disturbed the silence.

They both turned to see Xigbar limp up the last steps of the stairs, rubbing at the back of his head with a pained grimace. Spotting the two of them he shook his head, then looked as though he regretted it.

"You will so _not_ believe what just happened."

Xemnas swept his gaze over the shorter man's more than usually unkempt appearance, his nose twitching slightly as a certain pungent scent wafted over and assaulted his nostrils.

"Have you something to report?"

"You could say that. Visual of two little lost lambs for starters. I also just got totally tackled. By Vexen."

Xemnas blinked once in blank bemusement.

"Tackled? By _Vexen?_ "

"That's what I said. Ow. Dude's got a serious set of sharp elbows on him like you wouldn't believe."

"Vexen attacked you? Vexen? Physically?"

"Think bowling pins. Of course that trash can didn't help any. May have cracked a rib or three."

"Trash can. That... would explain the, ah, scent?"

Saïx was sneering broadly by now.

"How unbecoming, Number Two... Bested so easily by one of the least capable fighters in the Organization? It really must smart."

"My ribs do, I'll tell you that. Oh, hey, I brought a special little something just for you."

The Freeshooter tossed the blue-haired man a carelessly wrapped package which he caught in mid-air on reflex, raising his eyebrows quizzically.

"What's this?"

Dirty cloth, possibly raided from the aforementioned trash can, was folded away to reveal the already melting remains of a large icicle, from the looks of it wrestled from a wooden fence or doorframe.

"Give it a sniff, work your mojo, talk to the man in the moon. See if you can catch a trail or something. I for one 'm going to go lie down until I stop seeing two of you; one is seriously heinous enough."

Saïx snorted in offense, but held on tight to the icicle, eyes gleaming unpleasantly.

"I'll see what I can do."

"This is important news," Xemnas intoned, his eyes narrowing slightly. "We will have to call another meeting and inform the others upon their return. Haste is of the essence."

"Yeah, sure, rad. You do that. Ow."

"Also, Xigbar?" Xemnas added, half-turning after the shorter man, a look of vague suffering crossing his face. Xigbar paused in his stride to give him a questioning look.

"Yeah?"

"You may want to have a shower first. It's... truly quite bad. Really."

Giving a sulky little wave and muttering something about fish-guts, garbage and certain bogus blondies who would totally pay under his breath, Xigbar pitifully dragged himself off.


End file.
